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A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Works of 

Edith Robinson 

A Little Puritan Pioneer 
A Little Puritan Rebel 
A Little Daughter of Liberty 
A Little Puritan's First Christmas 
A Loyal Little Maid 
A Puritan Knight Errant 

* 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
200 Summer St*, Boston, Mass* 




“‘THOU SHALT BE MY LADY, AND IN ALL THINGS WILL I 
BE THY FAITHFUL SQUIRE’” {See page tS) 


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€rrant 

Cliiti) 3^olJtnson 

Author of 

“ A Little Puritan Pioneer ” 

“ A Little Puritan's First Christmas " 

“ A Little Puritan Rebel f etc. 


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iSofiiton K* a. er. Jlace <a 

fo JWTrctccitt 




THt LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Tv/o Co«Ed Received 

^U6. 23 1902 

COPVRIOHT ENTRY 

£liC4t , 

CLASS (PL XXo No. 

u- C U- 

COr*Y 8. 


Copyright, igo2 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 



,c. Published, August, 1902 

* • m 


Colonial ^reaa 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 


The spirit of chivalry — let worldlings say what 
they will — is the very spirit of our spirit, the salt 
which keeps our characters from utter decay, the 
very instinct which raises us above the selfishness of 
the brute. Yea, it is the Spirit of God Himself. For 
what is the feeling of horror at wrong, of pity for the 
wronged, of burning desire to set wrong right, save 
the Spirit of the Father and the Son, — the Spirit 
which brought down the Lord Jesus out of the high- 
est heaven, to stoop, to serve, to suffer, and to die, — 
that He might seek and save that which was lost. 

The age of chivalry is never past, so long as there 
is a wrong left unredressed on earth and a man or 
woman left to say, ‘‘I will redress that wrong, or 
spend my life in the attempt.” The age of chivalry 
is never past, as long as men have faith enough in 
God to say, ** God will help me to redress that 
wrong ; or if not me, those that come after me. For 
His eternal will it is, to overcome evil with good.” 

— Charles Kingsley. 






LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ ‘ Thou shalt be my lady, and in all things 

WILL I BE THY FAITHFUL SQUIRE ’ ” Frontispiece ^ 

“ The habit of obedience conquered ” . . . 48 

“A HAND WAS PLACED UPON HIS SHOULDER” . . I05 

“ The next instant, the clumsy craft had up- 
set AND THE two BOYS WERE IN THE WATER” 202 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


CHAPTER I. 

** See, ’tis the ship, sure,” repeated Faith. ** Look 
yonder, beyond the Castle.” 

But her companion was less far-sighted or more 
credulous. 

** ’Tis a gull or a light dancing on the water,” he 
answered, positively. <‘Thou hast seen whole fleets 
of vessels, ere now, that never landed.” 

“But it must be the Abigail^ — is long over- 
due ; only this morning my honoured father said that 
she was four months out from England,” insisted the 
girl, unheeding that her basket of bayberries was 
overturned in the impulsive movement that followed 
her alleged discovery of the long delayed ship. 
“Thy sight will be better when thou hast dwelt 
a little longer in this land of sunshine,” she went 


9 


lO 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


on ; ’tis true that at home we could not see from 
this distance to the water’s edge, because of the rain 
and fog.” 

“I have been in New England as long as thou,” 
answered Thomas. “ Did we not both come in the 
same ship — the Griffin — that landed in Boston 
fourteen months ago } And glad enough I was 
to see land, — e’en such a land as this has proved to 
be,” added the boy; ‘‘for what with a voyage that 
I thought would never end, and the deadly seasick- 
ness that made me long to be at the bottom of the 
sea, never should I have reached Boston had it not 
been for thy mother and her care of me on ship- 
board.” 

The girl made no reply, being, indeed, so absorbed 
in gazing out at sea as scarce to have heard her com- 
panion’s words. With arms upraised, and hands 
shading her eyes. Faith Hutchinson’s figure was well 
defined against the soft sky of mid-October. Her 
face, a round oval in contour, was brown with expo- 
sure to the summer’s sun ; little time, indeed, did 
Faith spend within doors, unless compelled thereto 
by parental authority ; her eyes, soft and large, were 
of a darker hue than was common amongst her 
country folk; their heavy lids, habitually downcast, 
were fringed with long, curling lashes, that, well- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


11 


nigh as thick on the lower as upon the upper lid, 
aided to give the girl’s eyes, when raised, a certain 
intent, starry look that in somewise seemed out of 
keeping with certain other traits of her character. 
Her gown, of heavy gray stuff, reached nearly to 
her ankles, showing heavy wooden shoes that made 
light-footedness a marvel ; over the little shawl that 
was folded, kerchief-wise, upon her breast, was a 
round white linen collar. The masses of dark hair 
might have seemed almost too heavy for the slender 
head — poised so delicately upon the shoulders — 
were it not of a silky, clinging quality that allowed 
its plaits to lie compactly beneath a close-fitting mus- 
lin cap. 

Her companion, perhaps a twelvemonth older than 
herself, was taller by many inches, and of a figure of 
which the lithe grace, manifest in its every line, could 
not be disfigured even by the shabby clothes, though 
the leather doublet was torn in many places, and the 
breeches gave token of long-sustained rough usage. 
Brilliant dark eyes, a nose perhaps something over- 
large for absolute beauty, but giving character to the 
whole face, and golden-brown curls worn much longer 
than was usual amongst boys of the time and place, 
made Thomas Savage a lad whose appearance seldom 
failed to attract attention. 


12 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Boy and girl looked intently seaward for some 
minutes in silence. 

Verily, I believe thou art right, Faith," cried 
Thomas, at last. “ I can see the sails plainly. 'Tis 
the Abigaily past doubt." 

The news had apparently spread rapidly through 
the town, for even as they looked, it seemed as 
though every house below was emptying itself of 
people, all hastening in the direction of the wharf. 

‘‘ Come, let us hurry ! " cried the boy, making a 
movement to pull his companion down the steep path 
by which they had ascended ; but Faith held back. 

Nay, I want my bayberries," she said; ‘^my 
mother would be sore disappointed did I return with- 
out them; besides, she hath promised some of our 
fine bayberry candles to Mistress Winthrop, who 
hath been so ill of the distemper as to leave no time 
for the work. Though I think, indeed," added the 
girl, reflectively, ‘‘that however gracious of speech 
Mistress Winthrop may be for such neighbourly ser- 
vice, at heart she likes it not that my mother hath 
the name of being a more notable housewife than 
she." 

Thomas good-naturedly helped to pick up the 
scattered berries till the birch basket was refilled. 

“Tis great fun to see the people come ashore," 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 1 3 

said Faith. “Think’st thou there will be any chil- 
dren aboard ? I should be right glad an there were 
nice maids of mine own age.” 

“ Nay, I think thou wouldst rather go walking and 
climbing and fishing with Francis and me though 
every one aboard were a maid,” observed Thomas, 
laughing. But thou must not go to the wharf with 
me. Faith,” he added. ‘‘Tis no place for a girl, 
and thine honoured mother would like it not an I let 
thee go.” 

Then let us stay here on the hill and watch the 
ship come in,” pleaded Faith. “ As soon as she 
nears the wharf, thou canst run to meet her ; thou 
canst run very fast, Thomas, and wilt be with 
the other boys ere the people aboard have come 
ashore,” she added, persuasively, as her companion’s 
frown warned her that her proposition was ill re- 
ceived. 

“ But I would be with the other lads now,” an- 
swered Thomas, impatiently. Wilt ever be a mar- 
plot, Faith ? Thou art a maid and ’tis time thou 
learnt that a maid cannot do as her brothers.” 

“ But I can,” retorted Faith, her plea based on 
substantial fact rather than airy theory. I can row 
and fish and walk as far without being wearied as 
either thou or Francis. Ay, and when he and thou 


14 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


and my father were all ill of the distemper, did I 
not chop wood and fetch water and catch the biggest 
lobster ever seen in Boston — all of three feet long 
— and did I not even wring a fowl’s neck with my 
eyes shut — ” 

**And cried the rest of the day over the slaugh- 
ter,” interrupted Thomas, scoffingly. “ There goes 
Francis,” he cried, as a boy's figure was seen to 
leave a house at the foot of the Tramount. can 
wait no longer.” With the last words, he gathered 
himself up for a run. 

Then will I go with thee,” said Faith, stubbornly. 

Thomas made a gesture of impatience, paused, and 
looked at the approaching vessel. Abigail — for 

there could be little doubt that it was she — was 
warping slowly up the harbour, the numerous islands 
making navigation difficult. It would certainly be an 
hour or more before she reached the wharf. He knew 
from experience that when Faith’s face wore an ex- 
pression like the present, argument or remonstrance 
was useless. So, though with no very good grace, 
he yielded, on the promise from his companion that 
she would return to her home when he joined the 
other boys at the wharf. 

Except to baffied impatience, it was not an ill place 
in which to pass the time of waiting. They were on 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I 5 

the summit of Cotton’s Hill, — as the highest peak of 
the Tramount was known, — a rocky, dome-shaped 
mass topped by a plateau of several rods in extent. 
On the hill to the south, the walls of a fort, its 
foundations just outlined upon the ground, were visi- 
ble; upon the heights to the north, the sails of a 
windmill were slowly revolving. The tide had risen 
over the narrow neck that connected Boston with the 
mainland, converting the three-hilled peninsula, for 
the time, into an island. Seaward, beyond the Castle 
that watched the channel, could be seen the fifty 
islands of the bay ; from one of them a lighter 
was making its way, laden with the resinous pine 
upon which Boston depended for its firewood. In 
the broad arm of the sea into which the river 
Charles widened, lay the Mary Rose^ from Bristol, 
England, to set sail that very night, at turn of the 
tide, for Virginia. On the lower slopes and about 
the base of the Tramount, were scattered the 
houses of the settlement, — for the most part cabins 
of rough hewn logs ; a few of the mud huts that had 
sheltered the earliest pioneers were still standing, 
while here and there the growing prosperity of the 
town was evidenced by frame houses with Elizabethan 
fronts and overhanging gables. These domiciles 
were connected by unpaved lanes, following the lines 


1 6 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

of the hills and coast, something more than cow- 
paths, not yet streets. 

Thomas was looking meditatively out at sea, as 
though his thoughts were retracing the course of 
the approaching vessel. 

‘‘Thou art looking for news from thy friends, 
Thomas } ” queried the girl. “ Perchance thou art 
expecting a letter from her of whom thou hast told 
me } ” she went on, and there was a new note, almost 
as of wistfulness, in her voice. “ Nay, I would not 
keep thee here against thy will,” she added. “ I 
spake, but now, out of haste. Go thou to the 
wharf, with Francis and the other boys.” 

“ I have told thee I would stay with thee,” an- 
swered Thomas, with becoming dignity, but molli- 
fied, notwithstanding, by his companion’s altered 
tone. “ It would scarce become a squire, and one 
who some day hopes to be a knight, to desert a 
lady.” 

“But I am not a lady,” returned Faith, simply; 
“ at least, not such an one as thy Lady Emilia of the 
Castle, though my dear and honoured father was a 
gentleman of good estate, and my honoured mother 
is the daughter of a minister, one held in high 
esteem in our old home in Alford,” the girl added, 
not without pride. “ But we are not Castle folk. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


17 

and I do recall that once, when my father took me 
to old Boston, in Lincolnshire, we passed the great 
Castle of Sempringham, where thou dwelt, — only I 
did not know thee then, nor dreamt that thou 
wouldst ever become my brother. I do recall with 
what wonder I gazed at the high frowning castle, 
the moat and drawbridge, thinking that not even his 
gracious Majesty, King Charles, could live in so 
splendid a place. But how canst thou be a squire 
when thy lady is a thousand miles away, and thou 
hast no knight, either, to whom to offer thy ser- 
vices, nor any services, either, to offer, except thy 
work on thy books, — and that is little enough, I 
fear me, — or digging on the roads, or carrying stones 
to help build the wharf ? ” queried the girl, with danc- 
ing eyes, and another of her swift changes of mood. 

Thou shalt play thou art my lady — for the 
time,” rejoined Thomas, discreetly. 

“ Nay, take my poppet for thy lady,” retorted the 
girl. 1 put her away for good and all yesternight, 
having reached my thirteenth birthday, and have no 
further use for her.” 

“ Of course thou knowest. Faith,” went on 
Thomas, seriously, ** that Lady Emilia, and she 
only, is the lady of my heart, and that I came to 
this country so that I might win fame and honour 


1 8 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

for her. But since that it is well for a squire to 
have some one to whom to pay his devoirs, and 
since, also, thou needest a proper squire, and there 
being none other to play the part in this town,” 
added Thomas, with fine scorn, ‘‘ I tell thee. Faith, 
that thou shalt be my lady, and in all things will I 
be thy faithful squire.” 

*^And I tell thee that I’ll have none of 
thy make-believe. Master Thomas,” retorted Faith. 
<‘Think’st thou I’ll let thee practise thy rules of 
knightly conduct on me, so that when thou goest 
back to Sempringham, with a name of right gallant 
worth and a record of deeds with which all England 
rings, thy Lady Emilia may marvel that we in the 
wilderness had bred so true a knight as to make 
even that Sir Philip Sidney, of whom thou lovest 
to speak, as tame and dull a figure as my poppet,” 
cried Faith, without a pause for breath. 

** Thou need’st not speak with such scorn,” re- 
turned Thomas, somewhat uneasily. Many a maid 
would not take it ill that I offered her my services 
as true and loyal squire, telling her, fairly and 
squarely, as beseems such a case, that mine heart 
was long ago given to another, — and hers to me, — 
ay, and she one who could choose betwixt me and 
an earl’s son.” 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 


19 


** Then find such a maid ! ” retorted Faith. “ Only, 
let me tell thee, she is not my mother’s daughter. 
Besides, an I need a squire, — which I do not, for I 
can take care of myself, — I would take Dean Win- 
throp.” 

“A matchlock may befit him,” returned Thomas, 
haughtily. ’Twould ill become a gentleman’s son 
to carry other weapons than sword and dagger or a 
lance in battle.” 

Dean is a right honest, trusty lad, not afraid of 
hard work, and his father hath been our honoured 
governor, and is like to be again, folks say,” answered 
Faith, sturdily. “ Thou hast no better reason for 
thy mislike than that Dean hath red hair and shoots 
the long bow better than thou ! ” 

He hath warts, too,” returned Thomas, dog- 
gedly; ‘Hhere hath been two-headed knights, and 
even knights without arms or legs, but never since 
the world was made, six thousand years ago, hath 
there been a knight with warts.” 

He counts himself more than thine equal,” re- 
turned Faith. “ His father is one of the richest 
men in the Colony, and none here held in higher 
honour.” 

“ Dean Winthrop may hold his head high because 
that his father hath been governor,” said Thomas. 


20 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


He may even sit side by side with me in the meet- 
ing-house ; but, were we at home, he would have to 
remember that he is but the son of an attorney, 
whilst I have the right to the same coat of arms as 
the most noble Lady Bridget, Countess of Lincoln.” 

I like right well to hear thee tell of her,” an- 
swered Faith; ‘‘far better than to hearken to tales 
of thy Lady Emilia, who, I make no doubt, was a 
vain, high-tempered minx, — nay, I meant not to vex 
thee again ! ” cried the girl in quick repentance, 
as her companion’s brow clouded. “ ’Twas good of 
thee to stay with me instead of running with the 
other lads, and I will say no more to make thee 
frown. The countess must indeed have been a 
right gracious, noble lady, and, as thou knowest, I 
love to hear thee tell of thy Castle life,” she added, 
tentatively. 

“ The earl, too, was ever my friend,” went on the 
boy, in mollified tones, “ not less, I think, because it 
was my good fortune to be the kinsman of his noble 
lady, than that my father was his right trusty com- 
panion in arms when, many years ago, the Earl of 
Lincoln, at the head of a gallant regiment of horse 
and foot, went to the aid of the Palatine. When war 
and pestilence and famine had killed a woful number 
of the Lincolnshire men, and the earl himself lay 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


21 


wounded and sick unto death, my father never 
quitted his side, and so, by God’s merciful will, the 
earl recovered. But scarce had he quitted his bed, 
when my father sickened — and died. Ah, I cannot 
bear to think of his death,” went on the lad, in a 
choked voice. “ Had he fallen in battle, that were 
a glorious ending to a noble life ! But to die, as 
do cattle of the murrain — that were no fit death 
for a brave and honourable man. My mother was 
at the Castle of Sempringham when the earl returned, 
with scarce a tenth of the gallant men with whom 
he had set forth. She died shortly after, when I 
was born. The earl and countess, from my very 
cradle, charged themselves with my bringing up, and 
right generously have they acquitted themselves of 
the burden. I think, indeed, if any difference was 
ever made betwixt me and their only son and heir. 
Lord Eaton, it was in my favour.” 

Those were sad, troubled times, Thomas,” said 
the girl ; “ I am glad we live in a country and in a 
time that nobody could call heroic, when there is 
nothing to be done save spinning and soap-making 
and candle-dipping and sweeping, with something of 
study of the Westminster Catechism ; and, maybe, 
a whipping or two thrown in by way of ill luck.” 

‘‘Nay, those were glorious days,” cried the boy. 


22 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 


with flashing eyes. Thou knowest not what it is, 
Faith, to be born with fighting blood in thy veins, 
yet forced to live such a life as one is constrained 
unto in yonder town. Ah, if I had been born in the 
time, not so long ago, when there was fighting and 
cruising and glory for brave men and true ! If God 
sent death instead, who feared it? Old Dickory — 
one of the bowmen in my father’s troop, who, in his 
age, was given a home at the Castle — would tell us 
lads, of an evening, in the Castle hall, stories that 
made one long to seize his sword and go forth to 
instant battle, — tales that would have stirred a 
coward’s blood — and there were no cowards who 
listened. He told of fighting in the Low Countries, 
of persecution for the right, of wrong steadfastly 
resisted, unflinching bravery against overwhelming 
odds ; of times when Protestant faced Papist, count- 
ing it glory to die for the one true faith, when blood 
ran like water in the streets of Antwerp and men 
fought on, unknowing how to yield ! Think of sail- 
ing with Drake, the fearless and true, in his voyage 
around the world, struggling with wind and wave and 
danger of every sort for three years, and coming 
home with a shipload of gold dust and ingots and 
pearls and emeralds and diamonds, the wonder and 
glory of England and of the world ! ” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


23 


“ May not one be a knight nowadays ? ” queried 
the girl, with an odd wistfulness in her tone. 

“Nay, the age of chivalry is past,” answered 
Thomas, gravely ; “ and there be no more such 
knights as once walked the earth — although, on pay- 
ment of some wretched, paltry eighty pounds a year, 
men may still be called by that once so lofty name 
— shame be it said ! Once, to be a knight was to be 
held the equal of kings and emperors, and was the 
guerdon of a brave and blameless life, of lofty aims 
and noble achievements. Such an one was mine 
own ancestor, Brian le Sauvage, a squire of ancient 
lineage attending the knight. Sir Walter de Bartelot, 
who came over with William the Conqueror. At the 
battle of Hastings, ’twas said the Normans would 
have been driven from the field had it not been for 
the gallant stand made by Brian le Sauvage over his 
master’s body, when the dead lay twenty thick about, 
thus giving Sir Walter time to rise and rally his men 
and hasten to the side of the king, hard pressed 
by the Saxon hordes. For this service, Brian was 
knighted on the field of battle by the king himself,” 
related Thomas, proudly, “ and as further meed of his 
valour was given an estate covering nearly the whole 
of Sussex ; on him was also bestowed the right to 
keep swans. Therefore it is that thou mayst see the 


24 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


swans, to-day, upon our coat of arms. That were 
a knighthood worthy of its aims ! ” cried Thomas. 

Faith, thou art a girl and knowst not what the very 
sound of deeds of high emprise may mean, to one 
who hath the blood of many knights within his veins, 
but perchance thou mayst in some sort picture the 
scene in which mine ancestor bore chief part,’' the 
boy went on, with flashing eyes. ** Listen ! Then 
knelt the squire before the king. ‘To what end,’ 
asked the king, ‘ do you desire to enter this order } 
If it be that you may repose yourself and be honoured 
without doing honour to knighthood, then you are 
unworthy of it.’ And Brian le Sauvage gave answer 
as became him. 

“ Then dubbed the king, saying : 

“ ‘ In the name of God, St. George, and St. Michael, 
I make thee knight.’ ” 

“Some day, thou, too, shalt be knight,” cried 
Faith, eagerly. “ Even such an one as thine ances- 
tor, gallant Sir Brian, — or better still, our own St. 
George, who slew the dragon ! ” 

“One worthier of knighthood than my father 
never lived,” returned Thomas, soberly, “ and so said 
the noble earl, and old Dickory, and all who knew 
him; and had he lived in the days of chivalry, he 
would have won the golden spurs when no older than 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 25 

I. But like many a poor gentleman, nowadays, he 
could not be at the cost of maintaining proper state 
as knight, and so remained squire all his life.” 

“ Thou knowest that before we sailed for America 
I had scarce set foot beyond our quiet town,” said 
Faith. “I know not what a knight should look 
like. There was my dear father and our honoured 
minister, and sometimes Master Dudley, the steward 
of the Earl of Lincoln, rode into Alford on his lord- 
ship’s business. Would Master Dudley have made a 
knight, had he lived long ago, when men were brave 
and ready to die for a comrade, or so that they knew 
they were doing right and pleasing God ? Master 
Dudley was so big and tall and strong that I used to 
think he must be one of those of whom the minister 
spake, — of the * shining hosts of Gideon,’” ques- 
tioned Faith, earnestly, “and when I went to his 
house in old Boston, with mine honoured father, I 
thought none could be sweeter lady, whether in cas- 
tle or cabin, than his daughter. Mistress Anne.” 

“Master Dudley was a right faithful, painstaking 
steward,” answered Thomas, a shade of condescen- 
sion mingling with the genuine respect in his tones. 
“ But thou art a girl. Faith, and understand est not of 
what stuff true knighthood is made,” he added, de- 
cidedly but not unkindly. “ In truth, there are no 


26 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


knights in the town yonder, and if there were,” he 
added, discontentedly, there would be nought for 
them to draw swords upon — for even the savage, 
brutish men of the forest have ceased fighting.” 

“ But somewhere in the world there are still giants 
and dwarfs and dragons and the Paynim and the 
Spanish — such foes to righteousness as thou hast 
told me about, — are there not.^” persisted Faith. 

“Truly there are,” cried Thomas, eagerly, “and 
some day — perhaps, who knows, ere very long .? — 
I may go forth to do battle with them. I may yet 
have tales written about me, as there were of the 
Seven Champions and of the Knights of King 
Arthur’s Round Table. ’Twas in the hope of such 
adventures, indeed, that I besought his Lordship to 
let me come to America ; for there were wonderful 
tales told of this country by returning sailors, even 
such as were related by Marco Polo and Prester John, 
when those bold travellers returned from their jour- 
neyings in the far East — of gold mines and diamond 
fields sparkling in the sun ; of strange beasts bigger 
and fiercer than the dragon conquered by our own 
St. George; creatures with seven horns, like the 
beast of the Apocalypse, and a race of one-legged 
men who lived to the far north, and other marvellous 
people whose heads grew beneath their shoulders. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


27 


But none of all these wonders have I seen,” sighed 
Thomas, “and there is no more glory to be won 
here than at home, with as much hard study and 
more disagreeable work than at Sempringham. Here 
I thought at least I should be a man, but Master 
Dudley, in whose care, as thou knowest, I was placed 
by the Earl of Lincoln, saw fit to put me at school, 
with no livelier prospect than of going, later, to the 
college school of which they are talking,” added the 
lad, with discontent in every line of his handsome 
face. 

“ Thou hast scarce o’ertasked thy brains with 
study,” returned Faith, laughing. “ Take heed lest 
the tithing-men visit thee for an idle good-for-nothing, 
as I fear me thou art sometimes called.” 

“A murrain on the tithing-men!” said Thomas, 
sulkily. “ At any rate, ’twas Master Dudley himself 
who placed me at school, and if Master Eaton turned 
out, later on, after all his professions of piety and 
learning, to have a greater fondness for the bottle, 
and for the pages of him whom Master Winthrop 
calls ‘that wanton playwright. Will Shakespeare,’ sure 
I am not to blame for being idle. ’Tis an ill wind 
that blows no good, and as long as Master Eaton 
seemeth content to take the shillings that my guar- 
dian hath agreed to pay for my keep and instruction 


28 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


in Latin and what not, and asks nothing of me, why, 
matters might well be worse. The chaplain at the 
Castle was ever for giving Theophilus and me a 
flogging, when we rightly thought it a sin and shame 
to spend the day at our books in a stuffy room when 
we might be bird’s-nesting or swimming in the river. 
But, in sooth, I am sick of this town of tradespeople, 
where there is no chance to win the name and for- 
tune of which I came in quest. To the south, in 
the Colony of Virginia, are men of a different 
breed ! ” 

“Thou wilt not go thither.?” cried Faith, in alarm. 
“ Thou couldst not walk so great a distance, — thou 
wouldst meet wolves and lions and savages and all 
manner of evil spirits that dwell in the forests.” 

“That would suit me right well,” answered 
Thomas, fervently, his eyes straying, as he spoke, 
to the Mary Rose below. 

“Thou and Francis have had thy heads much 
together of late,” said Faith, quickly — but Thomas 
was gazing so intently at the Bristol vessel as scarce 
to heed her words. And on the next instant, almost 
as though she repented of her hasty speech, the girl 
arose and held out her hand. 

“Come, let us go,” she said, “the Abigail is 
nearly in.” 


CHAPTER 11. 


It seemed as though nearly all of the people of 
Boston, of every sort and condition, were assembled 
at the wharf, even several of the magistrates being 
present. These dignitaries stood somewhat apart 
from the others, near the landing ; and to judge from 
their dress, — which was that worn on occasions of 
state — and expectant demeanour, might be awaiting 
the arrival of some one of distinction on the ap- 
proaching vessel. Amongst the promiscuous crowd 
were many who had friends and relatives on board 
the belated ship ; others had been drawn thither by 
the desire for tidings of dear ones in their English 
homes, from whom nothing had been heard for many 
months. Still others there were who had come to 
the wharf in the mere excitement of the ship’s ar- 
rival, a most momentous event in the life of the 
colony. A group of boys were gathered near the 
newly completed wharf, amusing themselves by skip- 
ping stones over the surface of the water. A shout 
went up as a dexterously tossed pebble went far 


29 


30 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


beyond its fellows. It was cast from the hand of 
a sandy-haired lad of about Thomas’s own age, but 
more stockily built and not so tall by half a head. 
His dress, like that of his companions, consisted of 
a leather doublet, long hose, and square-toed shoes 
of buff leather. 

^‘How now, Thomas Savage.?” he called out, as 
the other boy drew near. Think’st thou that some 
of thy noble kinsmen have come over to bear thee 
company .? ” 

“An there were. Dean Winthrop, thou wouldst 
have no share in their welcome,” retorted Thomas, 
“unless, perchance, to carry a load for them. Per- 
haps thou art waiting thyself to welcome friends 
amongst the servants .? ” 

“Look thou. Master Savage,” retorted Dean, 
angrily, “it ill becomes thee to put on the airs and 
manners of a lordling because that thou wert, on 
sufferance, bred in a castle. Thy castle manners 
ill fit thee here. ’Tis well known that but for the 
charity of his lordship, the Earl of Lincoln, who, no 
doubt, right gladly paid thy passage to America 
to be quit of thee, — thou mightst well be one of 
those same servants thyself — ay, and bound to our 
household.” 

“ My betters are not to be found in thine house ! ” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 3 1 

retorted Thomas. “Nor would any here/’ he added, 
glancing defiantly at the rest of the group, who had 
been cheering Dean’s sleight of hand, “have been 
thought worthy to wait at the board at which I 
sate.” 

“Was it in the earl’s household that thou learnedst 
thine insolence.?” queried Dean. “Truly, of that, if 
of nought else, thou hast brought plentiful store out 
of England.” 

The other boys had been looking, with suppressed 
excitement, from one speaker to the other, instinc- 
tively closing about them, that their threatening 
gestures might not be seen by any in authority ; 
their angry voices, however, may have reached be- 
yond the confines of the group, for one of the magis- 
trates, a personage of evidently marked importance, 
with a pale face and dark pointed beard rising above 
a ruff of ample size, had stepped aside from his wor- 
shipful companions, and was looking intently in the 
direction of the boys. As the two lads glowered at 
each other, hardly restrained by prudence from an 
appeal to fisticuffs, Thomas’s arm was grasped by a 
tall, slender boy, whose face had not yet lost the clear 
red and white of those bred beneath the soft gray 
skies of the Lincolnshire fens. 

“Take heed, Thomas,” he said. “Both the tithing- 


32 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


men and the magistrates are close at hand, and thou 
wilt find thyself right speedily in trouble if thou 
comest to blows. An Master Winthrop would not 
disgrace his own son, he would even now send the 
beadle this way.” 

The appeal to prudence was not lost upon either 
boy, for Dean drew back, and Thomas, although he 
still held his ground, suffered his clenched fist to 
relax. Fortunately, at this moment, a diversion was 
created by the cry from those in the immediate vicin- 
ity of the wharf : 

She is in ! ” 

All other issues forgotten in the exciting an- 
nouncement, the group of boys, — including the two 
would-be combatants — hastened to the landing, or 
as near as the constables would allow them to come. 
Thomas, by means of wriggling his lithe body through 
the crowd, and Dean by dint of sheer pushing and 
ramming, succeeded in making their way to the outer 
ring of spectators. Eager hands had received the 
hawser from the deck of the Abigail, and the plank 
was thrown ashore. There followed an unaccount- 
able delay in which the now surging crowd nearly 
broke its bounds. It was perceived presently that 
Master Winthrop and the other magistrates had gone 
to the end of the wharf, and it appeared that the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


33 


delay in somewise concerned them. At last, some one 
— it was not easy, at that distance, to distinguish 
his appearance — stepped upon the plank, and the 
worshipful gentlemen were greeting him with much 
apparent deference. Then the newcomer led the 
way shorewards. Master Winthrop and the other 
magistrates following at a respectful distance. The 
constables, pressing back the throng with stern 
commands, aided by sharp raps from their rods, 
cleared a space about the land end of the wharf. 

With wide open eyes and held breath, Thomas was 
leaning eagerly forward, his surroundings forgotten, 
ignoring even the weight of Dean’s heavy shoes on 
his own feet, in the sudden backward surge of the 
crowd. Silence had fallen upon the tumultuous 
throng, and all alike were staring at the newcomer. 

It needed not his distinguished and deferential 
escort to mark him a person of distinction. He was 
a tall and strikingly handsome man — or rather youth, 
for his years could scarce have numbered four and 
twenty. His head, with its mass of golden brown 
curls reaching nearly to the shoulders, was thrown 
slightly back, as though to permit deeper, fuller 
draughts of the bracing air of the New World. 
Widely open black-brown eyes, beneath an ample 
forehead, swept the crowd with a certain deepening 


34 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

of two little lines between the brows that, despite his 
youth, gave the newcomer the air of one who dis- 
cerned the characters and purposes of men with won- 
derful sagacity. Almost it was as though, in that 
seemingly careless, yet searching glance, he was 
looking for some face which, although seeing for the 
first time, he should instantly recognise. 

In the gaping crowd was a handsome, bright-faced 
lad whose eyes were upraised to his with a look of 
admiration — almost of adoration, — in their depths. 
The boy’s cap was in his hand, his knee was bent, 
as though in some instinctive homage to which the 
rest of the throng were strange. For an instant 
only, that solemn, searching look rested on Thomas’s 
face — a look that sent some responsive thrill through 
the boy’s heart ; for that instant, he and the stranger 
stood alone together out of all the world, face to face 
and heart to heart. Then, something dimmed the 
boy’s sight — a sudden mist, it was likely, sweeping 
in from out the sea, after the manner of drifting fogs 
in this strange country. When his vision cleared 
again, the stranger was lost to view. 

The other passengers were pouring ashore. Most 
of those who had friends or relatives in the town 
made their way, under the escort of these, toward 
the settlement ; others lingered about the wharf. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 35 

intent on getting their goods ashore with as little 
delay as possible. Still as in a dream, Thomas 
heard the question asked on every side amongst 
those to whom the interest of the scene was how 
nearly at end : 

“ Who was he — surely some great lord ? ” 

The reply was in Dean Winthrop’s most important 
tones, — the words reached Thomas as he left the 
other boys, to follow, led by some impulse that he 
neither sought to combat or to comprehend, the 
footsteps of the stranger. 

Master Harry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, 
Comptroller of the household of his Majesty the 
king. He is to live, at present, with Master Cotton.” 


CHAPTER III. 


Faith ! ” 

The girl arose, respectfully, from her wheel as her 
mother entered the kitchen — it was living-room 
as well in the Hutchinson house. Dusk had fallen, 
but the blaze from the pine knots in the great fire- 
place sufficed to illumine the room without recourse 
to candles. 

“ Hast heard who came on the ship ? ” queried her 
mother. “ Goodwife Dyer hath been in great anx- 
iety because of the long delay. Her brother’s wife 
was expected, and being in ill health when she 
started, ’twas matter of doubt as to whether she 
would reach these shores alive. Was there much 
sickness aboard ” 

‘‘I have seen no one since the ship was in,” 
answered Faith. ‘‘Francis hath not yet returned 
from the wharf. Boston hath been making holiday,” 
she added, knowing that, when her mother was ab- 
sorbed in one of her errands of mercy, she was not 
36 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 37 

infrequently oblivious to all that was going on about 
her. 

*‘True, true/’ murmured Mistress Hutchinson, ‘*I 
noted that the streets were deserted as I came from 
Goodwife Dyer’s. Doubtless people are listening at 
any welcome fireside to news from home.” 

“ The child is dead .? ” queried Faith, softly. 

“He died at sunset; rilay the Lord sanctify this 
affliction to his sorrowing mother,” answered Mis- 
tress Hutchinson. “ I remained awhile to pray and 
exhort with her, bidding her call on the Lord to 
make her child’s death what He would to her,” she 
added, fervently. 

“ Thou must be rarely tired, mother,” said Faith. 
“’Tis now three days and nights that thou hast 
watched with Goodwife Dyer, and I’ll warrant me 
thou hast scarce tasted food in all that time.' - I have 
kept the porridge hot for thee. The children are in 
bed,” she added, as her mother glanced, still with 
that absent air, about the room, as though in quest 
of something, she knew not what. Apparently sat- 
isfied with the answer. Mistress Hutchinson removed 
her cape and hood and remained standing by the 
fireplace, apparently lost in thought. Thus seen, 
she was a tall, slender woman, of some five or six 
and thirty, of resolute and even haughty carriage. 


38 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Her eyes, clear and dark beneath level brows, were 
set widely apart. The lower part of her face, with 
its heavily moulded chin, was redeemed from a 
suggestion of masculinity by the full and beautiful 
curves of a sensitive, mobile mouth. Mistress 
Anne Hutchinson’s smile had an attraction few could 
resist. 

“ I know not what it means,” she said at length, 
talking more to herself than to her daughter, “nor 
whether that which hath been revealed to me this 
day be a portent for good or ill. At early dawn, I 
stood in the doorway of Good wife Dyer’s house, 
looking seaward. There appeared all at once, over 
the harbour, the form of the keel of a ship, with three 
masts, to which were suddenly added the tackling 
and sails ; and presently after, upon the top of the 
poop, a man was standing.” The speech of Mistress 
Hutchinson, at all times of much fluency and in 
moments of excitement even voluble, was now slow 
and laboured, as though she were seeking to recall 
every detail of a picture that had evidently deeply 
impressed her. “He was young and of extraordi- 
nary beauty,” she went on, “a gallant, courtly figure, 
the like of which I have never seen save once, when 
my father took me to London at the coronation of 
his gracious Maje.sty. More kingly than Charles, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 39 

more noble than any nobleman in the royal train, 
the gallant figure stood, in silk and velvet attire, 
such as is worn by gentlemen of the court. In 
his right hand was a sword outstretched toward 
Boston. Then from the side of the ship that was 
toward the town arose a great smoke, which cov- 
ered all the ship ; and in the smoke she vanished 
away.” 

The girl listened to her mother’s recital in wonder- 
ing, awestruck silence. Signs and omens were not 
infrequently vouchsafed to the godly people who had 
left the comforts of their English firesides to plant 
God’s church in the wilderness; and to some of 
these, as to the prophets and wise men of old, 
were visions unrolled of which the interpretations lay 
not always in human understanding. In those days, 
men lived near to God, and in these visions were 
sometimes hints of a glory not of earth, a suggestion 
as of some celestial country, whose like had never 
been seen by mortal eyes, save in the faint foreshad- 
owings of dreamers. To none, in Boston, had these 
marvels been more frequently vouchsafed than to 
Mistress Hutchinson. Of late, they had been more 
frequent and of deeper spiritual significance ; often 
dawning at the bedsides of the sick and dying, when, 
by prolonged vigil and fast, the soul had gained as- 


40 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

cendency over the flesh ; or in the exaltation of those 
moments of prayer and exhortation that never failed 
to accompany the ministrations on the weak and suf- 
fering body. In such high esteem, and in such in- 
cessant demand were Mistress Hutchinson’s services 
held, particularly in the hours of woman’s sorest trial, 
that the time she spent at home was become daily 
less. Not that her household suffered from these 
prolonged absences, for no more notable housewife 
than Mistress Anne Hutchinson was to be found in 
Boston, and in her spinning, and candle dipping, and 
soap making — that yearly trial of patience — she 
was no whit behind her neighbours of more home- 
keeping habits and perhaps of homelier wits. If, in 
the esteem of certain good folk in the near neighbour- 
hood, Faith was permitted to share the sports of her 
brother and brother’s friend, Thomas Savage, to an 
unbecoming degree. Mistress Hutchinson was held in 
such universal esteem that, except for an occasional 
shake of the head, or possibly, some censorious word 
from a sour-visaged goodwife, there was little open 
criticism to be heard in Boston. Besides, Faith, hoy- 
den though she might be, had inherited her moth- 
er’s ability to no inconsiderable degree, and in her 
mother’s absence looked so well after the ways of 
the household and cared so faithfully for the needs 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


41 


of the younger children, that the lack of an older pair 
of hands was scarcely felt. 

The house of Master Eaton — at whose school 
the boys of the better class in Boston were taught — 
stood somewhat apart from the rest of the settlement, 
being the last dwelling on the road to the Neck. 
The Countess of Lincoln, holding the judgment of 
her former steward in high esteem, had placed the 
conduct and welfare of her young kinsman unre- 
servedly in Captain Dudley’s hands. Although cir- 
cumstance, as well as natural predilection, had shaped 
Captain Dudley’s earlier life to that of a soldier of 
fortune rather than a scholar, he held learning in 
high esteem, and had lost no time in placing his 
ward at the newly opened school of Master Eaton, 
a Cambridge scholar of considerable repute. Under 
existing circumstances, indeed, this arrangement had 
appeared the only feasible one, if the countess’s de- 
sire that her young kinsman be bred for the ministry 
were carried out, as Captain Dudley had recently 
removed from the seat of government to the border 
settlement of Agawam, some thirty miles to the north 
of Boston. Thomas was thus left almost wholly to 
the jurisdiction of the schoolmaster and the magis- 
trates; those latter worshipful gentlemen, however, 
for certain reasons that they deemed of weight, were 


42 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


slower to exercise their authority in this case than 
in any other instance that appeared to call for dis- 
cipline, although of late Master Winthrop had been 
known to express fears that in such leniency they 
were not only lax in the performance of their own 
duty, but were suffering the lad a real and perhaps 
lasting injury by withholding the bitter but salutary 
effects of punishment. Master Eaton’s school had 
speedily diminished in numbers as his incapacity 
for so responsible a position became increasingly evi- 
dent'; as he paid scant heed to the instruction or 
discipline of his two or three remaining pupils, 
Thomas was left to a more considerable degree of 
freedom than was usual amongst the boys of his age 
in the Puritan town, a condition of which he did not 
fail to take advantage. 

At first, indeed, his life in the New World seemed 
an ill exchange for that of Sempringham Castle and 
the merry companionship of his friend Theophilus. 
Instead of the brief service in the Castle chapel, was 
now a long prayer and three hours’ sermon, to which 
he must give the appearance, at least, of devout 
attention, under penalty of a sharp rap from the 
tithing-man’s rod. His lessons were as many and as 
distasteful as when under the tutelage of the chap- 
lain ; there was work, too, upon the roads and 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 43 

wharves, for which Thomas had even less liking, 
deeming such labour below the proper dignity of 
his birth and station. 

But by degrees, as he became wonted to the con- 
ditions of his new life, he began to find it not only 
tolerable, but even much therein that was enjoyable. 
Francis Hutchinson, who was also being educated for 
the ministry, proved as good and trusty a comrade 
as the earl’s son, and of a disposition less apt to 
clash with Thomas’s own, while in the hospitable 
house of Mistress Hutchinson, the boy found an 
ever ready welcome and place at board — the latter 
condition of special gratulation to one else con- 
demned to the meagre and unwholesome fare sup- 
plied by Mistress Eaton. There was trapping rabbits 
and hunting foxes at the back of the Tramount, 
coasting on the sharp northern incline of Windmill 
Hill, that shot one over the bluff and far out over 
the frozen Charles. There were snowball fights 
with the boys of the North End, and skating on 
the mill pond — when Thomas’s fine Holland skates 
were the envy of every boy in town. With spring, 
came shooting with the long bow at pigeons on 
the Charlestown marshes, or at the sea-fowl that, 
when the east wind was straining over the river flats, 
flew low to their roosting-places on the islands in the 


44 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


harbour. Wild turkeys and ducks, cooked by one’s 
own hands, were eating not to be despised even by 
one who had sate at an earl’s board. As warmer 
days loosed the rivulets and covered the country 
about with myriad flowers unknown to English soil, 
there were explorations of the new land, with just 
the possibility of an attack by the wolves or bears, to 
add zest to these excursions. It would have been 
gratifying to write to Theophilus of an actual en- 
counter with the savage men which ranged up and 
down the country, little otherwise than the wild 
beasts of the same. But although some of these peo- 
ple, from accounts that had reached the Bay Colony 
from other parts, were known to be cruel, barbarous, 
and most treacherous, being most furious in their rage, 
and merciless when they overcame, delighting to tor- 
ment men in the most bloody manner that might make 
the weak to quake and tremble, it was hearsay, rather 
than actual experience that gave the people of Boston 
their darker conception of the Indians. A few years 
previous to the permanent settlement of the town, a 
pestilence had raged amongst the savage tribes that 
invested the eastern coast of Massachusetts, from 
which they perished in such numbers that the dead 
lay in heaps all up and down the shores, there being 
not enough survivors to bury them. Peril from such 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 45 

a source seemed increasingly unlikely, as time went 
on, and the English, in ever increasing numbers, 
seeking in the New World the religious freedom that 
was denied them at home, extended their settlements 
farther and farther along the coast — as yet not 
beyond tide-water, but with every indication that ere 
long they would dispossess of their inheritance the 
savage peoples that still roamed the unbroken wilder- 
ness of the interior. Every year, too, the only tribe 
for many miles around — roaming the southern coast 
— of which any considerable numbers remained, the 
Narragan setts, brought to Boston presents of wam- 
pum and beaver skins, and received in return, the 
white men’s beads and blankets, the nominal inter- 
change of gifts being tacitly recognised by either 
side as the feudal offering of vassals and their gra- 
cious acceptance by the lords. 

On leaving the wharf, Thomas and Francis took 
advantage of the general relaxation of discipline to 
visit their rabbit traps on the solitary wooded heights 
above Blaxton’s Point, a bluff on the farther side of 
the Tramount, looking westward. Several of the 
traps were found to contain captives, which the boys 
proceeded to cook by their own fire on the hillside ; 
although their appetite did not thereby suffer for a 
later meal of suppawn and warm beer at the Hutch- 


46 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

inson board. Shortly after, Thomas took leave of 
his friend at the door with the whispered words : 
“ All is ready ; at nine of the clock, on Blaxton’s 
Point,” without observing Faith’s quick, comprehen- 
sive glance at her brother and himself. 

It was dusk when Thomas reached Master Eaton’s 
house. It was the opinion, amongst those who had 
the opportunity of observing something of the inner 
workings of the Eaton household, that its mistress 
rather encouraged Master Savage’s frequent absences 
from board, as an appreciable saving of her own 
provender. It was, therefore, somewhat to Thomas’s 
surprise, — and not without a premonitory twinge of 
dismay, — ^that he perceived Master Eaton in the 
fore-yard of the house, holding in his hand a stout 
birch rod, and apparently on the lookout for some 
one. As the boy came nearer, it was also manifest 
that the schoolmaster had been taking advantage of 
the general holiday and the possible arrival by the 
Abigail of certain consignments of aqua vitce to 
the tavern near the town dock, newly opened by 
Goodman Samuel Coles. 

So, sirrah, thou hast neglected thy tasks to run 
about the town, making thyself an example of idle- 
ness and wanton mischief and unseemly brawling, 
and drawing thereby on thy master the rebuke of the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 47 

magistrates ! ” began Master Eaton, twirling the rod 
threateningly. 

Thou hadst given me no task,” answered 
Thomas, not disrespectfully, but in a tone that may 
have betrayed some scornful recognition of the 
schoolmaster’s condition, for it was in a tone of 
increasing anger that Master Eaton went on : <<Thou 
hast nought better to do than to run about with 
slanderous tales of thy good mistress and the food 
which is a thousand times too good for a worthless 
vagabond like thee ! ” 

“ All the town knows, and that without words of 
mine, that the fare thou and Mistress Eaton gave 
thy scholars, so long as thou hadst any to turn from 
thy board with qualmish stomach, was bread made 
of sour meal, and fish that the very swine left un- 
touched, while beer and butter were not seen in thy 
house for weeks at a time ! ” cried Thomas, hotly. 

“ Ho, ho, listen to our fine young lordling, — with 
his long rent roll and servants to command! He 
thinks he may live on the fat of the land, when he 
doth not earn his salt. Thou shouldst be thankful 
that thou hast so good and merciful a master, for if 
I made complaint to the magistrates of all thine idle- 
ness and mischief, think’st thou wouldst escape with 
a trouncing ? ” 


48 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Let him feel what it is to say his mistress’s food 
is not fit for the swine ! ” called a shrill voice from 
the doorway. 

** That will I — as well as to settle certain other 
little accounts that thou hast been running up,” added 
Master Eaton, turning to Thomas, **and which have 
come to mine ears of late. Off with thy doublet ! ” 

Thomas had often been whipped, both at home — 
as he still called Sempringham — and by Master 
Eaton, in the earlier days of the school, when it had 
presented a flourishing appearance, and the school- 
master himself had maintained a semblance, at least, 
of self-respect ; and rebellion had never entered the 
boy’s mind. But something told him that the whip- 
ping he was about to receive would be unlike any 
from which he had ever before suffered. He took a 
backward step. They were standing near the wood- 
pile, and the idea shot through the boy’s mind of 
seizing one of the heavy billets and defending him- 
self. He knew, did it come to an actual trial of 
strength, that he was more than a match for the 
schoolmaster. Master Eaton repeated his command. 
The habit of obedience conquered, and almost 
mechanically Thomas unhooked his doublet. The 
first blow fell. 

He was conscious, at last, — how long it was since 



“THE HABIT OF OBEDIENCE CONQUERED 


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A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 49 

the cruel blows had been raining upon his head and 
shoulders he did not know — that he should probably 
die under the infliction. Every now and then there 
appeared to be a lapse of consciousness, probably 
only of a fraction of time, but seemingly infinite in 
duration. The next time — the next — would be 
the last. 

With the conviction came a swift gathering of all 
his forces. He would not die, slain by this drunken 
brute, without lifting a finger in self-defence. Or, if 
he must die, he would fall as became the descendant 
of Brian le Sauvage, with the dead twenty thick 
around him ! He struck madly out with some 
weapon that had mysteriously found its way into his 
hand, again and again — thinking that with each 
blow he felled one of the surrounding foe. He must 
keep on striking those death-dealing blows, till the 
enemy was no more. 

Presently he found that his blows were no longer 
meeting any object of resistance. A shrill voice 
reached his brain, calling ** Murder ! ” 

He stopped, dazed. Returning consciousness 
showed him Master Eaton lying, motionless, at his 
feet ; his own hand grasped a heavy billet that he 
must have snatched from the woodpile. It was wet 
with something. As the stick dropped from his 


50 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


grasp, he saw that it left a red stain upon his 
hand. 

In the very desperation of the situation, his brain 
cleared. The next instant, he had seized his doublet, 
and was off over the marshes like a deer in the direc- 
tion of Blaxton’s Point. 


CHAPTER IV. 


To his surprise, when he reached Blaxton’s Point, 
two persons instead of one were awaiting him. 
Francis stood by the boat — an old dugout, that 
had probably belonged to Master Blaxton, and which 
the boys had since utilised for their fishing excur- 
sions. The other figure was seated in the stern 
of the canoe, wrapped in a cape that prevented 
recognition. 

‘‘ Who’s that } ” questioned Thomas, sharply. 

Faith. She would come,” muttered Francis, 
discontentedly. 

Why didst thou tell her we were going — thou 
mightst have known she would come with us — 
and probably get here first,” returned Thomas, 
sharply. 

did not tell her, nor did I know any more 
than thou, that she would be here when I came, 
seated where thou seest her now, and refusing to 
move an inch, though I have talked myself near dumb 
trying to get her to go home. We shall have to let 
SI 


52 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

her go,” groaned Faith’s brother, warned by experi- 
ence that it were an idle task to keep Faith out of 
any scheme in which she was resolved to participate. 

suppose we must take her along, then,” as- 
sented Thomas, ungraciously. 

Didst thou and Francis think I would have thee 
go alone, with no women folk to care for thee } ” said 
a composed voice from the boat. 

^*’Tis no place for girls,” asserted Thomas. 
“ Why must thou be always at our heels, Faith } ” 
Have I been, ever, a marplot in thy plans } ” 
came the girl’s indignant voice from the shadows. 

When we have gone fishing, have I not always 
pulled an oar with thee, and dug mine own bait, — 
ay, and thine, too } An I went not along now, who 
would bind thine hurts and mend thy clothing and 
cook thy meals } Think’ st thou in that land of black- 
amoors and convicts and godless folk of the Church 
of England that thou couldst find any one to keep 
the house decent or the hearth clean or the kettle 
filled.?” 

*‘An thou must come, why, come,” returned Fran- 
cis, desperately. But quit chattering. The tide 
hath turned, and in five minutes we should have 
been left sticking in the mud,” he added, turning to 
Thomas, “while the Mary Rose was showing her 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 53 

heels below the Castle. I thought thou wouldst 
never get here ! ” 

It was evident, indeed, that no time was to be lost, 
for there was already a bed of ooze visible along the 
shore, and each succeeding wavelet broke farther and 
yet a little farther behind its predecessor. As he 
spoke, Francis was unfastening the cord that secured 
the dugout to a stake driven in the mud. 

“ Sit in the stern while we get her off,” directed 
Thomas to the occupant of the canoe. 

Faith moved, not without some apparent difficulty, 
for she seemed to have a burden in her arms about 
which she displayed much solicitude. The bow of 
the boat thus lifted out of the water, the two boys, 
putting their shoulders to the stern, by the exertion 
of all their strength succeeded in getting the clumsy 
craft afloat. 

For a time, as Thomas and Francis bent them- 
selves to the oars, none of the little party spoke, 
partly because of the fear of discovery, — doubtless 
exaggerated, as there had been no dwelling in the 
neighbourhood since the hermit Blaxton abandoned 
his house on the bluff, — and partly because the 
thoughts of all present were strained upon the neces- 
sity of getting out of the shallows before the reced- 
ing tide left them a wide stretch of oozy mud and 


54 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

sand, interspersed with patches of coarse marsh 
grass. Passing the promontory that marked the 
western extremity of the peninsula, they were soon 
in the main body of the stream. The force of the 
receding tide in the estuary sufficed to bear them 
onward, although care was necessary to keep the 
boat in the tortuous channel, the eddies and counter 
currents of the lower Charles not infrequently 
playing strange tricks on the unwary boatman. 

Suddenly Faith became engaged in a frantic strug- 
gle with something beneath her cape, — an animate 
body, evidently, that all at once, struggling free from 
the imprisoning folds, gave vent to a prolonged and 
incensed howl that awakened all the echoes of the 
Tramount ; so many repetitions, indeed, were sent 
back of pussy’s indignant cries, that it might well 
have seemed as though the dome was the coming 
scene of some midnight orgy, and that a horde of 
witches’ familiars were greeting one another, as they 
and their mistresses alighted from their broomstick 
steeds. 

‘‘An thou keepest not that beast quiet I will 
throw her overboard,” threatened Thomas, who was 
the first to recover his self-possession from this unex- 
pected demonstration. “Take care,” he called to his 
companion, for in the moment that followed the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 55 

tumult of catcalls, his fellow oarsman made several 
false strokes. Dip deeper — faster — ’ ’ But F rancis 
failed to bring his stroke into unison with that of his 
companion, and the boat was pulled about in eccen- 
tric circles, till a cry from Faith caused both boys 
to desist from their futile labours and look over their 
shoulders in the direction indicated. 

At some distance farther down the stream, 
between the channel and the shore, was dancing 
a brilliant light in the form of a cross. As the occu- 
pants of the boat stared, dumfounded, at this specta- 
cle, the light suddenly stopped in its gyrations and 
hovered immediately over the surface of the water, 
as though considering its next movement. Then it 
darted across the stream between the dugout and 
the Mary Rose, with the manifest intent of inter- 
cepting the runaways. 

Suddenly there was a terrific glare, a mass of 
flame appeared to rise to the very heavens, followed 
by a roar that sent its reverberations echoing and 
reechoing up the river, over the sleeping town, and 
far out on the marshes. When silence came at last, 
patches of burning timbers were seen far and wide 
upon the stream ; where the black hulk of the Bristol 
ship had loomed in the darkness was now a glowing 
mass that sank nearer and nearer the water’s edge. 


$6 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

till only a faint light marked the spot where had 
recently floated the ill-fated Mary Rose. 

In the paralysis of fright that followed the explo- 
sion, both boys had dropped their oars, and the boat 
had since been drifting at the mercy of the current 
or counter currents. They were now apparently at 
some distance from the scene of the explosion, for all 
about was total darkness ; but not by straining their 
eyes in any direction could they obtain a clue to 
their whereabouts. As the tide was running out 
rapidly at the time of the explosion, it would have 
appeared that they had been carried out to sea ; but 
all were too familiar with the strong salt breeze, 
laden with the odour of pine, that blew amongst 
the islands, not to feel sure, by its absence, that they 
were still on the river. While they were conjectur- 
ing and deliberating, the cat, struggling free from 
her mistress’s arms, leaped over the side of the boat, 
into what its occupants had supposed to be a stretch 
of water. A few more leaps and the animal disap- 
peared from view, a triumphant howl in the distance 
evidencing her rejoicing at her escape. 

Just then, the crescent moon came partly out from 
the clouds by which it had hitherto been obscured. 

“ Look yonder ! Canst not see something t ” 
queried Thomas, in a hushed voice. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


S7 


A few rods distant, a battalion of hags — hideous, 
bowed, distorted forms — were hastening forward on 
some purpose unhallowed by the light. The rustle 
of the garments of the uncanny horde was followed 
by deadly stillness, as each horrid presence appeared 
to await some word of command to swoop upon its 
victims. The moon went behind the clouds again 
and the three trembling children waited in darkness 
for the onrush of those frightful forms. 

After what seemed a lifetime, the moon came 
fully out. 

“ Corn shocks ! ” exclaimed Thomas, in a voice that 
still shook with the horror of the unknown. 

Groups of half a dozen stalks, from which the corn 
had been stripped, were tied together a few inches 
below the tops of the stalks and left standing till 
they should have become sufficiently dry to gather 
for fodder and bedding for the cattle. 

“ I will go ashore and see where we are/’ said 
Thomas, after a momentary hesitation. 

The others, relieved of their worst terrors, yet 
still apprehensive, awaited his return. 

“ There is no house in sight ; we would better 
come ashore and wait till morning,” he reported. 

Without oars, it was manifestly useless to remain in 
the boat ; the little party scrambled ashore, and cross- 


58 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

ing an intervening strip of marsh, found themselves 
in the corn-field. Either boy being supplied with 
a piece of match, a fire of the cornstalks soon gave a 
measure of comfort to the unfortunate adventurers. 

am going to reconnoitre,” said Thomas, pres- 
ently, pointing to a faint glow on the horizon that 
seemed to betoken the dawn. So far as they could 
conjecture from their immediate surroundings, they 
were in the meadows that bordered the Charles in 
the neighbourhood of Newtown. But at the mercy 
of a stream fhat, in a portion of its course, meandered 
a distance of forty miles to cover what was four 
miles in a bee line, it was possible that they might 
not have gone a great distance from their starting- 
point. Of the time, they could make no guess, for 
in their panic minutes or hours might have passed. 

<*Thou wilt lose thy way, and once lost in the 
wilderness, people sometimes wander for days without 
regaining the path,” urged Francis. 

If I lose my bearings, I can follow the river back 
to Newtown,” returned Thomas, confidently; and 
without more ado, set out in the direction of the light. 

To the two in the corn-field, dawn was long in 
coming. The light on the horizon became momen- 
tarily fainter, and finally went out altogether. The 
moon having by this time set, all was darkness again. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 59 

** Will daylight never come ! ” exclaimed Francis, 
in tones of despair. If, indeed, the everlasting Day 
of Darkness be not upon the earth,” he muttered. 

“ Nay, be not afraid, Faith,” he added, as his sister 
slipped a trembling hand into his. 

** I meant not to be afraid,” returned the girl, in 
a tone she bravely strove to make steady. Did 
I not tell thee and Thomas, when I would go with 
thee, that I would be no trouble But I wish 
Thomas had not gone. I am sore afraid that he 
will fall in with wolves and bears, or — or worse,”' 
she added, in a hushed voice, and with an involun- 
tary glance over her shoulder. 

How it chanced neither boy nor girl could say, for 
care had been taken to clear a considerable space of 
ground about the fire. Doubtless some errant spark, 
shooting to a distance, fell on a stalk that, dry as 
tinder, was instantly a slender column of flame that 
swiftly enwrapped the entire shock ; the flames ex- 
tended to the next shock and the next, till the two 
children, perceiving their efforts to extinguish the 
fire to be in vain, and themselves in some danger, 
retreated to the boat, whence, in dismayed helpless- 
ness, they watched the flames apparently about to 
make an end of the entire field. 

Several men were seen running toward the spot ; 


6o 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


forming a line to the river and being provided with 
buckets, by great diligence they succeeded in putting 
out the fire, but not before the greater part of the 
shocks had been destroyed. When, at last, they 
ceased from their exertions, it was to regard the 
trespassers with scant favour. It was, indeed, a 
sorry ending of their brave adventure when Fran- 
cis and Faith were haled to the house of the 
owner of the field, there to await what action might 
follow. 

Newtown' was scarce a quarter-mile distant from 
the place where they had landed. The mistress 
of the house happily proved of gentle temper, and 
exclaiming over the sorry plight in which Faith was 
found to be, soon had her comfortable on the settle 
by the fire while a steaming bowl of catnip tea sent 
warmth to her shivering limbs. As she bound Faith’s 
hand, badly burnt in her efforts to extinguish the 
fire, she questioned the girl concerning the plight in 
which she had been found, holding up her hands in 
wonder and awe at the ensuing recital. 

“ ’ Tis God’s mercy that thou wert stayed in thy 
mad scheme,” she said, solemnly. Last night, the 
Mary Rose was blown to pieces with her own pow- 
der, being twenty barrels. No man knows how the 
powder took fire, but every one on board perished, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


6i 


with the exception of one man, who was carried up 
in the scuttle and so let fall into the water.” 

My mother — was any one in Boston hurt ” asked 
Faith, trembling. 

“The explosion shook all the houses in Boston,” 
returned the goodwife. “ Great pieces of timber were 
carried a long way off, and some rags and such light 
things beyond Boston meeting-house. It was a 
marvel that the town was not burnt to ashes. My 
man, with several others, set out for Boston to ascer- 
tain the cause of the noise ; all the town was awake 
and abroad, some thinking it an earthquake, others 
holding that the Indians had made a descent upon 
them, and still others saying that the end of the 
world was come.” 

On the information regarding Thomas, the men, 
scarcely staying to touch food, set out in search of 
the missing boy. They returned at nightfall with 
grave faces. 

“Thou fearest” — the good wife shuddered. 

“ Ay, that he may have wandered into the Ragged 
Plain,” returned the goodman, soberly; and at the 
words. Faith, for the first time in the experiences of 
the past four and twenty hours, broke down and 
sobbed aloud. 

Ragged Plain, depopulated by the plague of a few 


62 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


years previous, was a strange labyrinth of unbeaten, 
bushy ways in the woody wilderness, interspersed 
with swamps, and cut by running streams that pre- 
vented widespread forest fires. Infested with wolves 
and rattlesnakes, and the reputed haunt of demons, 
it was said that no one lost in these bad lands ever 
found his way out, or that his dead body was known 
to be recovered. 

On the following day, Francis and Faith were 
brought to their home. Anxiety for the missing 
children had of course been intense, and conjecture 
as to the cause of their disappearance ran wild. 
Had they not been the offspring of godly parents, 
duly baptised and instructed in the Catechism, the 
opinion would have gained credence that they had 
perished in the explosion, — or at least that their 
mortal frames had so vanished. For the survivor of 
the ill-fated Marj/ Rose had recovered his senses 
sufficiently to narrate that immediately before the 
accident, he, with others on board, had heard dis- 
tinctly the mewing and howling of myriad cats on 
the heights of the Tramount; and as the summit 
of the three-topped hill was known to have been, in 
former days, a favourite gathering-place of witches, 
it seemed superfluous to look farther for the cause of 
the catastrophe. A Geneva Bible, in the pocket of 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 63 

this man, was the evident explanation of his own 
miraculous preservation. 

A party of Boston men was promptly organised 
to join with those of Newtown in the search for 
Thomas Savage. For several ensuing days, the 
chief subject of conversation in the settlement was 
of the missing boy. Scarce an hour could have 
elapsed from the time of his leaving his companions 
in the corn-field to the setting forth of the Newtown 
men on his track, but he had vanished as com- 
pletely as though the earth had opened and swal- 
lowed him, — or, what was more probable, the evil 
powers that infested Ragged Plain had borne him 
bodily away. The country for a considerable radius 
about Newtown had now been covered in the search, 
but without avail, the only human being in the neigh- 
bourhood being an old squaw gathering sticks in the 
marshy fields not far from her house, — a birchbark 
structure on piles. Toward the end of the week 
it was thought best to obtain of Master Winthrop 
the aid of the four fine hounds recently sent him 
from England by his brother-in-law. Master Downing. 
The solicitude for Thomas was by this time, however, 
somewhat divided with sympathy for Master Eaton, 
who, on recovering from what he alleged to be the 
effects of a severe blow on his head, dealt him by his 


64 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


unruly pupil, had lost no time in lodging complaint 
against Master Savage with the magistrates. There 
was even a growing feeling in the town, chiefly, how- 
ever, amongst those who are ever ready to believe 
the worst of their fellow beings, or, in some in- 
stances, by those who had suffered from Thomas’s 
mischievous propensities, that the lad’s disappearance 
was of his own contriving. In view of the serious 
charge against him, the affair of setting fire to the 
corn-field sank into comparative insignificance. The 
latter suit, also, proved to be a matter easily adjusted, 
as the owner of the field was content with the pay- 
ment of adequate damages. The ordinary procedure 
in such cases had recently been set aside, the court 
having enacted that no one should sue one another 
at law, before Mr. H. Vane and the two elders had 
the hearing and deciding of the cause.” 

Short as was the time in which Master Vane had 
been in Boston, it was little short of marvellous 
how all hearts turned to him. Though young in 
years, it was openly said that it was to his sagacity, 
to the clear, penetrating power of his mind, rather 
than to the riper judgment of his two compeers. 
Master Oliver and Master Leverett, that the wisdom 
and justice of these decisions were due. Certain 
it was that all parties in the threatened difficulties 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 65 

had left the presence of Master Vane and the two 
elders well satisfied to take no further action at law." 

As Master Hutchinson and his two children were 
about to leave the room in which the examination 
had been held, there was a slight stir by the door, 
and directly appeared Master Eaton and his wife, 
accompanied by the beadle, in whose custody was a 
wet, bedraggled, mud-stained figure with long, tousled 
hair and begrimed face. At the utter forlornity of 
the youthful prisoner’s appearance. Master Vane, 
despite the ordinary gravity of his demeanour, threw 
back his handsome head and laughed till he could 
laugh no more. Under the influence of that infec- 
tious peal, even the stern faces of the two elders and 
the beadle relaxed. 

‘‘Thy name and station.^” questioned Master 
Oliver, at length. 

“Thomas Savage, gentleman,” came in the clear, 
ringing tones that one could scarce associate with 
one guilty of “felonious assault.” 

The examination on the more serious charge 
began. 

Master Vane took no part in the earlier proceed- 
ings in the case, but his eyes scarce left the face of 
the prisoner, that turned from accuser to judges, at 
first indignant, then defiant, at last growing set and 


66 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


white as the boy realised the magnitude of the charge 
against him. But in that open, handsome counte- 
nance, fear there was none. 

Master Vane spoke at last. 

By and by, the beadle shook Thomas slightly by 
the arm. 

“ Wake up,” he said, roughly, but not ill-naturedly. 

“ I am ready,” said the boy, in a dazed tone. 

** Ready for what — a square meal } ” returned the 
man, smiling. “Thou must be sore in need of 
food,” he added, “ if, as they say, thou hast had 
naught but parched corn to eat for a week past ! ” 

“ What have they been saying ? ” queried Thomas, 
rubbing his eyes, as one who passes from darkness 
into light, and looking bewildered about the room. 
Master Vane and the elders were conferring with 
Master Hutchinson. Master Eaton and . his wife 
stood hard by, in evident custody. 

“Thou art free, lad,” explained the beadle. “I 
thought thou didst fall asleep during the progress of 
the examination. Perchance hunger and weariness, 
and mayhap something of fever from the unmerciful 
beating thou didst receive, put on its semblance. 
Master Eaton hath confessed to having whipped thee 
cruelly, when under the influence of drink, and that 
the blow thou struckst him was in self-defence. Mis- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 6 / 

tress Eaton hath likewise owned to having given thee 
poor food, and often none at all ; to have taken 
away thy clothes under pretence of mending them, 
as was agreed, and neglecting to return them, and 
in divers other ways to have disregarded the terms 
upon which thy guardian placed thee with them. 
Faith, I should not like to be tried for my life, and 
guilty of the charge against me, and have Master 
Vane question me,” went on the worthy man; ‘‘for 
whether or no, his eyes have a trick of getting the 
truth out of one, even as the witchhazel wand is 
drawn downwards by the presence of water in the 
earth below. Turn about is fair play, and Master 
Eaton and his wife are bound over for trial before 
the court on the charge of failure to keep their bond, 
and for thine unjust and cruel punishment. For all 
of which thou hast Master Vane to thank, and none 
other. For the present, thou art to live with Mis- 
tress Hutchinson, whereof I also give thee joy, for 
all Boston knows of her and her good deeds.” 

It was not long ere Thomas was installed in his 
new home, with his hunger in a fair way of being 
appeased. 

Faith was regarding him with eyes of wonder. 

“ Wert thou in great peril .? ” she questioned. 

Thomas coloured, and manifested some reluctance 


68 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


to enlarge upon the theme of his recent adventures. 
But Faith’s curiosity was not easily balked. 

“There was an Indian,” he rejoined, at length, 
shortly. 

“What of the Indian .? ” queried Faith. 

“ If thou must know,” returned Thomas, his good 
nature returning with the bounteous supply set before 
him of good things from Mistress Hutchinson’s but- 
tery, “ this is what chanced. After leaving thee and 
Francis, I had gone but a little way when I came to 
an Indian hut, built on piles, and with a ladder 
convenient. There I decided to wait till morning. 
Hardly had I drawn up the ladder after me when 
the owner of the hut appeared, and was furiously 
angry on finding me in possession. I would not 
come down, and one could not get up without the 
ladder. There was a store of parched corn within, 
and, as I was nearly famished, I ate some. Some,” 
added Thomas, after a momentary hesitation, “ I 
fired at the Indian through a cornstalk, which made 
an excellent pea-shooter. This sport made the savage 
furiously angry, and — and threatening. By and by 
I heard the Newtown men calling, but as the Indian 
gave no sign of raising the siege, and — and became 
even more threatening, as it seemed I were about 
to fall into — into the hands of a horrid revenge, I 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 6g 

thought it best to remain where I was. At last the 
hounds brought the search party to the foot of the 
house, and I could descend without fear of conse- 
quences.” 

Incited by the wide-eyed horror of his listener’s 
face, Thomas made a dramatic pause. 

“ Did he — oh, Thomas, — did he want to — to 
— s — ” With a white face, Faith paused before the 
awesome word that never failed to send a shudder 
through the heart of him who spake or him who 
hearkened. 

“ N — no, not exactly,” answered Thomas. “ After 
being paid for the corn, of which I had eaten nearly 
the whole, the enemy withdrew,” he added. 

Were they many ? ” asked Faith. 

“There was only one,” answered Thomas, lamely ; 
adding, still more lamely, He was a squaw. She 
wanted to — to — s — ” But that word, also, re- 
mained unspoken, Only it was not scalp. 


CHAPTER V. 

“ Do get thee from the way, Thomas,” exclaimed 
Faith, as she wielded the broom vigorously about the 
kitchen. “Two boys are not twice one boy; they 
are twenty boys. Thou and Francis together track 
in enough mud and gravel to build the new causey 
on the Neck ! Canst not let the baby alone ? ” she 
added, indignantly, as Thomas, wandering restlessly 
about the room, gave the cradle a violent shove, with 
the result of producing a vigorous protest from its 
rudely awakened occupant. “ Here, take thou the 
broom ! 'Tis but fair that thou shouldst finish 
sweeping while I put the baby to sleep again.” 

She took the little one in her arms, and began 
walking up and down the room, crooning one of the 
songs, half ballad, half lullaby, that, handed down 
from mother to child at English hearthstones, were 
still sung by Boston firesides : 

“ As I was walking all alone, 

Between a water and a wa, 

And there I spied a wee, wee man, 

And he was the least that ever I saw — ” 


70 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT /I 

the while throwing out an occasional remark in the 
direction of Thomas, who, half repentant, half bent 
on reprisal for Faith’s jeers, was raising little whirl- 
winds of dust and sand about the room. 

“The naughty boy, to be ever in mischief now 
that school doth not keep ! Hast heard what sen- 
tence hath been passed on Master Eaton } ” she 
queried. “ The court sate yesterday, did it not } ” 
“Ay, that have I,” answered Thomas, in a tone of 
satisfaction. “ He and his wife are banished the 
Colony, and are to be shipped without delay to 
Virginia.” 

“ An it were not for Master Vane, the affair might 
have ended differently indeed for thee,” said Faith, 
gravely. “ So says all the town. One marvels 
that so handsome a man should be gifted with 
all the graces of mind as well. They say that 
even Master Winthrop speaks with admiration of his 
youthful piety, terming him ‘a noble young gentle- 
man of excellent parts.’ ” 

“There was a book of plays at the Castle that I 
liked right well to read,” returned Thomas, thought- 
fully ; “ they were writ by one Will Shakespeare, a 
playwright who was held in right high esteem by his 
lordship, the Earl of Lincoln. I remember one line, 
— ‘A Daniel, a second Daniel, come to judgment!’ 


72 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

So, it seems to me, might one speak of Master Vane. 
I am glad, so glad, he is to be our next governor,” 
went on the boy, earnestly. 

Why art thou so glad 1 ” queried Faith. 
“Thinkst thou he will be choosing thee for his 
squire 1 ” 

But for once Thomas’s temper was proof against 
the mockeries of his girl companion. A sparkle 
came into his eyes, and there was another tone in his 
voice as he answered : 

‘‘Ah, if he only would so choose me! To be 
squire to such a knight I Think of waiting on 
Master Vane at board, of caring for his armour, of 
attending him when he went abroad, of being per- 
mitted, sometimes, as I fastened his spurs, to kneel 
before him — I would gladly be squire all my life, 
as was my father, in his service. But some day, to 
receive knighthood at his hands were worth all that 
the world here holds to be of value ! ” 

Faith broke into a laugh as Thomas, in an enthu- 
siastic flourish of his unwonted weapon, tripped over 
the broom, with such uncouth gyrations to preserve 
his balance as to cause the baby, who apparently 
conceived the idea that the performance was for his 
special benefit, to laugh and crow with delight. 

“Art practising for a midnight ride with the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 73 

witches ? ” cried Faith, laughing ; “ or wouldst like 
to keep the broomstick for a steed when thou art 
knight — or perchance as a weapon against the next 
time thou art besieged ? ” 

Let be, Faith,” Thomas made answer, sulkily. 
“ ’Twas a sorry jest at best, and long ago worn 
threadbare. ’Twas ill done of thee to tell it to Dean 
Winthrop, who hath done naught since but jibe at 
me, till my fists convinced him he would better 
find another theme for his poor wit. A tattletale 
finds no lovers.” 

am no tattletale, Thomas Savage, and that thou 
knowest right well,” cried Faith. “ An 1 had naught 
to do but run over town telling tales of thine idle and 
mischievous pranks, I should have time, indeed, 
for naught else. The story went all over Boston 
without a word from me and so would have travelled 
had I known nothing thereof. As for lovers, when 
I want them, let me tell thee, they will not be lack- 
ing ! ” cried the girl, with sparkling eyes. 

Thomas, momentarily silenced, withdrew to the 
window-ledge, while Faith, having laid the baby in 
the cradle again, began strewing fine white sand over 
the floor in an intricate pattern. 

‘‘ What are thou about } ” questioned Thomas. 

“ Some of the women of Boston are coming here 


74 A PURITAA^ KNIGHT ERRANT 

presently,” explained Faith. “ It seemed not right 
that the men should listen every Thursday to words 
of holy exhortation, and women be debarred from 
a like privilege, so my mother hath invited a few 
friends to come here to-day to talk over the sermon of 
last Sabbath, and to ask of her what questions thereon 
they will — my mother being well fitted for such a 
task,” added Faith, proudly. *‘’Tis well known that 
Master Cotton himself hath called her a ‘ masterpiece 
of woman’s wit,’ and Master Vane hath declared her 
to be ‘a prodigy of wit and learning.’ Boys are not 
admitted,” she added, significantly, glancing at the 
sun-dial on the window-sill. 

I have business without,” returned Thomas, 
loftily, making his way toward the door. 

“ If thy business is what I take it to be, — skating 
on the millpond, — the ice will have melted before 
thou get’st there,” retorted Faith. 

Swift upon assurance of the children’s safety, indig- 
nation and wrath had cast up a heavy reckoning, 
from which Faith was not exempt. But her case 
was considered to have been aggravated by the fact 
that she was a girl, and the further punishment was 
decreed that she should not be allowed to leave the 
house — except, of course, on the Sabbath day, to 
attend meeting — till she had spun one hundred 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


75 


skeins of flax. Skilled as Faith was at the wheel, 
it was rarely, with the demands of other household 
duties, that she could accomplish more than two 
skeins a day. As the long hours of the winter wore 
away at her wearisome task, if, as the girl stopped 
to tie the knot in the thread, an occasional tear was 
wiped away, none was the wiser, for Faith bore her 
punishment bravely, and the only outward sign she 
gave of how heavily it bore upon her was when her 
wistful glance followed Thomas and Francis as the 
two boys raced off to the fine skating on the mill- 
pond, or to coast on the long slide from the top of 
Cotton’s Hill to the foot of the Common. Most of 
all did she long to be out of doors when the south 
wind was blowing, bringing with it the promise of 
the springtime and the thought of the arbutus blos- 
soms hidden in the leafy hollows of the Tramount, 
that she, better than any other, knew where to find. 
It was passing hard, too, that having to bear, from 
no fault or choice of her own, the exceedingly hard 
lot of having been born a girl, she should now be 
so heavily punished because of its limitations. 

If other thoughts came to her, in the long hours of 
solitude, broken only by the whirr of the wheel and 
the tick of the clock reel. Faith was equally silent 
regarding them. It may have been that her mind 


y6 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

was less wont to stray in unbidden courses during 
Master Cotton’s sermon, that a softer tone had come 
into her voice, that sharp words sprang less fre- 
quently to her tongue. Such outward change, if 
any, was unnoted by those about her, who, it 
chanced, were just then exceedingly occupied with 
their own affairs. But now the last skein of flax 
had been put with the rest, ready for the bleaching 
in fresh running water as soon as the spring should 
have set the brooks free, and Faith rejoiced, deeming 
her troubles at an end. 

Pending the establishment of the college school at 
Newtown, that Master Harvard’s bequest had now 
materially aided, Master Cotton had generously 
offered to give a few boys who were preparing for 
college the benefit of his own rare learning. Dean 
Winthrop, Francis Hutchinson and Thomas Savage 
were of these favoured ones. In his daily goings and 
comings from the minister’s study, Thomas not in- 
frequently met Master Vane, although the boy was 
at some pains to avoid a direct encounter with 
the object of his worship, in sore and discomfited 
recollection of their earlier meeting. 

Master Hutchinson, though of estimable charac- 
ter and good education, had so exalted an opinion of 
his wife’s abilities as to leave all matters of household 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 77 

discipline in her hands. In addition to her ordinary 
labours at home and abroad, Mistress Hutchinson 
had of late been so absorbed in study of the Scrip- 
tures, as a preparation for the projected meetings, as 
to pay comparatively little attention to the move- 
ments of the two boys. After being dismissed from 
the minister’s study, Francis and Thomas betook 
themselves to the northern side of Cotton’s Hill, and 
seating themselves on a convenient boulder, discussed 
what it were best to do with the remainder of the 
day. Scattered far and wide about the shore at 
their feet were the timbers that had once formed 
part of the ill-fated Mary Rose, It was hinted that 
the vessel had carried on a more profitable if less 
lawful business upon the seas than that of peaceful 
trader — a supposition to which the strength of the 
armament she was found to have carried gave colour. 
Most of this ordnance, after being recovered from 
the channel, had lain for some time upon the beach 
in danger of spoiling ; recently, the matter had been 
taken in hand, and such of the great guns as were 
found to be in proper condition had been mounted 
on their carriages preparatory to removal to the fort 
in dilatory process of erection on the hill to the 
south. 

‘Hf we had reached Virginia and made our for- 


78 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

tunes as we planned,” said Francis, “I should have 
fitted out another ship and gone into the East India 
trade — with perhaps an occasional venture to the 
coast of Africa for blackamoors for the New England 
market ; they say slaves fetch a better price here 
than in the southern colonies.” 

I should have naught to do with trade, — or with 
corn and turnips, — a farmer’s life may well enough 
befit fellows like Dean Winthrop ! I should return 
straightway to England, raise a troop of the finest 
young men in Lincolnshire, and set out for the 
Netherlands. In these little Indian fights of which 
we have heard,” Thomas went on magnificently, if 
ten men are killed, they think it a sad loss. At the 
battle of Hastings, where fought my ancestor, Brian 
le Sauvage, the dead lay twenty thick around. Ah ! 
that were fighting ! ” sighed Thomas. 

Methinks one man would be too heavy a loss, an 
I were the man,” returned Francis, philosophically, 
if unheroically. 

I will make thee my lieutenant, Francis,” said 
Thomas, with thoughts that still dwelt on glory. 

“ And I will take thee aboard my ship as mate, an 
thou art agreed to keep thy place and not seek to 
command all aboard, including the captain,” retorted 
the prospective lieutenant, ungratefully. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 79 

“ Thy ship will be naught but a lighter,” answered 
Thomas, angrily, as one of those clumsy craft was 
seen in the harbour distance. 

For a space, in silent ill-humour, the two boys 
watched the lighter creep nearer the shore. Sud- 
denly Thomas spoke with much animation : 

“ Let us fire off the guns yonder. Election Day is 
not a week off, and it would be fine to celebrate 
Master Vane’s election with a salvo of great guns ! ” 

The proposal was too attractive not to enlist the 
sympathy of his companion, though suggestive of 
too many difficulties to win instant assent. 

“ If we should be found out ! ” said he, with a 
reminiscent shrug of his shoulders. 

“We shall not be found out,” answered Thomas, 
with a confidence that could scarcely have been based 
upon experience. “It would make a great noise,” 
he added, enticingly. 

But to his less sanguine companion there still 
appeared difficulties in the way of the scheme. 

“ Art going to load with gravel } ” he suggested, 
crushingly. “Or wilt thou ask the magistrates for 
powder, and get the answer they sent when Plymouth 
begged for ammunition against an expected Indian 
attack ? * We have no more powder than we want 

for ourselves ! ’ ” 


8o 


A FUJ^ITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


In the end, however, the prospect of the “ great 
noise ” was too seductive to be resisted, and Francis 
assented to the plan, on condition that Thomas 
should take upon himself the task of obtaining the 
powder. His own part in the scheme would be to 
touch off the fuses on election morning. Without 
further loss of time the two boys raced up the hill 
and down its farther slopes to Mistress Hutchinson’s 
house. A goodly number of women had been drawn 
thither, some, doubtless, attracted by the mere nov- 
elty of hearing one of their own sex “exercise,” but, 
for the most part, with dispositions eager to bene- 
fit by the well-known spiritual gifts of the speaker. 
Francis would have taken prompt advantage of 
the general absorption, but Thomas’s curiosity was 
aroused by the proceedings within, and despite sun- 
dry impatient tugs at his doublet, he remained be- 
neath the window, that, fortunately for his inquisitive 
spirit, had been opened by Faith not a moment be- 
fore to admit a little air into the crowded room. 
Mistress Hutchinson was speaking in the fervour 
of pious eloquence that, comforting many a death- 
bed, had strengthened and consoled as well those 
who mourned. It was a beautiful voice, with cer- 
tain inflections, as of a yet purer quality, striking 
ever and again into its pure, rounded volume — a 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 8 1 

peculiarity not infrequently noted in the voices of 
rarely magnetic folk, and carrying with it not only 
an undefinable charm, but also a well-nigh irresistible 
sense of authority. 

“You that are against those things and that are 
for the Spirit and the Lord together, hold up your 
hands ! ” 

Mistress Hutchinson’s voice sounded again in 
answer to some question that only sharp ears could 
have distinguished in the babel of shrill, anxious 
voices that followed the close of her remarks : 

“Master Vane and Master Cotton are under a 
Covenant of Grace.” 

“ Are Master Winthrop and Master Wilson, then, 
under a Covenant of Works } ” demanded a voice, 
strident with excitement ; but before this question 
could be answered, another woman struck in, in tones 
high pitched with fearful anxiety : 

“ I prithee, mistress, is my man under a Covenant 
of Grace, or is he under a Covenant of Works, and so 
doomed to everlasting damnation } ” 

“ Come away, or we shall be too late,” whispered 
Francis. 

Something of the inexplicable excitement that had 
laid hold of those within seemed to have commu- 
nicated itself to Thomas, for apparently forgetful 


82 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


of the project before them, he remained as though 
rooted to the spot, unheeding Francis’s words, ex- 
cept to jerk his doublet from his friend’s hand. He 
stepped closer to the window, without noticing that 
in so doing he put his foot upon a stone ; tilting for- 
ward, his nose came into violent contact with the 
window-sill. An involuntary exclamation of pain 
escaped him, and both boys beat a hasty retreat. 

The company was dispersing, but there were still 
a few minutes in which to profit by the absorption of 
the mistress of ceremonies, as she received the fare- 
well words of the little body of disciples — for such 
some of the more spiritually minded of the gathering 
had avowed themselves. The bedroom on the ground 
floor opened, within, from the kitchen ; another door 
gave access from without ; this outside door was 
secured at top and bottom with heavy oaken bars 
and staples. 

'‘Stay outside and give warning if any one ap- 
proaches,” said Thomas, preparing to enter. 

" It’s too late ; come away, or we shall be caught,” 
urged Francis, sulkily. 

But Thomas was not to be balked in his design, 
and darted toward the closet. Some inadvertent 
movement, perchance a backward thrust of his hand, 
a motion to push Francis from the way, as his com- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 83 

panion sought to detain him, sufficed to swing the 
heavy door, on its clumsy leather hinges, to its place. 
The consequent jar sent the upper bolt rattling into 
the staple. Unheeding his companion’s warning 
whistle, Thomas thrust handful after handful of the 
powder into his doublet, then darted back to the 
door ; it was quite in vain that he strove to unbar it 
— the staple was just beyond his finger-tips. Faith’s 
voice called softly from the kitchen door : 

Quick, quick, this way,” and Thomas darted 
thitherwards, trying to look unconcerned and watch- 
ing for a chance to make good his escape, ere Mis- 
tress Hutchinson’s sharp eyes should fall on his 
bulging doublet. 

The mistress of the house was looking after her 
departing guests, in one of the fits of abstraction to 
which she was prone. When she reentered the 
kitchen, something of the rapt manner lingered and 
perhaps obscured her usually keen perceptions. 

Take the bellows, Thomas, and stir the fire,” she 
said, and as the boy, aghast at this command, stared 
at her in silence, she added, with unwonted sharp- 
ness : “ Dost hear } Do as thou art bid ! ” 

Almost dazed with fright, Thomas knelt at some 
distance from the hearth and sent a few feeble puffs 
at the dying fire. Mistress Hutchinson, with an ex- 


84 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


clamation of impatience, seized the bellows from over 
his shoulders and was about to send a vigorous blast 
upon the back log. At that moment, Faith, ap- 
proaching with a pail of water to fill the great copper 
kettle that swung upon the lug-pole, by some inex- 
plicable awkwardness, let the pail slip, with the re- 
sult of extinguishing the last spark upon the hearth. 
Under cover of the ensuing cloud of steam, the girl 
whispered to Thomas : 

“ Quick, be off ! ” and tried to disregard the pain 
of her own scalded hand or that of the stinging box 
on the ear that accompanied her mother’s words : 

“ Thou’rt a careless wench.” 

Thomas lost no time in rejoining his companion 
without, and with him of making the best of his 
way to the northerly side of the hill. 

‘‘Faith, in another moment. I’d have been sent 
higher up the chimney than ever journeyed witch ! ” 
he exclaimed, — and he nor none dreamt that that 
day a spark had been let fall of which the conse- 
quences were like to blow all Boston to destruction. 


CHAPTER VI. 


“Didst know — hast heard.?” cried Thomas, 
bursting without ceremony into the Hutchinson 
kitchen. “ Master Vane hath chosen me to the body- 
guard that is to attend him during his term of office 
as governor. Such fine array as hath been sent 
from London ! Doublets and small clothes of crim- 
son and white, — the Vane colours, — steel caps, hau- 
berks, small arms, and halberds, while for occasions 
of special ceremony like to-morrow, we wear fringed 
white gauntlets, broidered with the Vane coat of 
arms.” 

Though the sumptuary laws forbade rich apparel 
and similar extravagances to the plebeian order, these 
were readily conceded to individuals dignified by rank 
and wealth ; and it was deemed only fit and proper 
that Master Vane’s servitors should dress as became 
their master’s exalted station. 

“ Really to be in the service of his honourable 
Worship, the governor .? ” inquired Faith, in awe- 
stricken tones. 


85 


86 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


“This morning,” related Thomas, “Master Cotton, 
after our Latin, bade me go to Master Vane, who 
had something of importance to say to me. Never 
dreaming that I had been chosen to so high 
and honourable a post, — for though none in 
Boston be better born, though I say it, there 
are right many who esteem themselves of greater 
importance, and who would have liked right 
well to be appointed halberdier to the gov- 
ernor.” 

“ Wert much afraid ” queried Faith. 

“ What should I fear .? ” returned Thomas, loftily, 
thinking it unnecessary to confess that a score of re- 
cent misdeeds, including the loading of the great guns 
preparatory to fitly ushering in the new administra- 
tion, had been in his mind, rather than the possibility 
of honour, when he was admitted to Master Vane’s 
study. The latter apprehension, besides being the 
suggestion of a guilty conscience, may have been 
prompted also, by the fact that, the day before, at 
dusk, as he was returning from placing the fuses in 
the great guns, he had met Master Vane face to face, 
and the glance of the young governor-elect was of 
so penetrating a sort as to render his future halber- 
dier, for the time, exceedingly uncomfortable. “ He 
was so gentle, so courteous,” went on the boy. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 8 / 

thoughtfully, that one could not be afraid, although 
sure am I that never, for a single instant, would one 
forget that Master Vane is master.” 

What did he say ? ” questioned Faith, looking at 
Thomas as though the mantle of the master had in 
somewise fallen upon the servitor. 

He asked me, first, if I would like to enter his 
service on his body-guard ; and I told him I should 
esteem it a great honour, and would try to do my 
duty as I understood it or as his Worship saw fit to 
instruct me,” related the boy, circumspectly. He 
spake then, at some length, of what service would be 
required of me, and of the time I would have to pur- 
sue my studies with Master Cotton, which he wished 
me to continue. All of which being understood, 
to-morrow I am to enter his service as halberdier, at 
fifteen shillings a year, and food and clothing to boot ; 
for lodging, at least until such time as his own house 
be completed, he preferred that I should sleep here. 
His servant will bring the accoutrements anon, that 
I am to wear for the first time to-morrow, for the 
election sermon.” 

“ I shall see thee in thy bravery ! ” cried Faith, 
with sparkling eyes. 

Be sure that thou art on hand, for we shall not 
tarry on the way to church, and everybody, from far 


88 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


and near, is coming to Boston to-morrow to see us,” 
advised Thomas. 

That evening, a boyish figure stole from out the 
shadows of Mistress Hutchinson’s house and made 
its way along the footpath up Cotton’s Hill ; winding 
through the scrubby trees and huckleberry bushes 
that covered the uplands, the summit of the Tra- 
mount was at last reached. The lights were out in 
all the houses of the town, save one on the northerly 
spur of the hill, beneath whose roof dwelt Harry 
Vane. Laying on the ground the accoutrements 
that on the morrow he was to don in the governor’s 
services, Thomas prepared to spend the night beside 
them, halberd in hand, in vigil and prayer, as became 
the faithful squire about to be attached to the per- 
sonal service of his lord. What mattered it that 
the age of chivalry was past, and that only in his 
own heart could he vow himself to the fealty of 
those glorious days ? 

Presently, a fog seemed to be drifting over his 
senses, and his hand relaxed its grip. The noise of 
the falling halberd aroused him, and for a few min- 
utes, walking up and down the plateau served to 
arouse his dormant faculties ; but soon his eyelids 
drooped again. It was not exactly forbidden in the 
knightly ritual to seat oneself for a few minutes ; nor 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


89 

was it interdicted by any known rule of chivalry that 
one might rest his head for an instant upon his 
helmet. His heavy eyelids had their way. 

And as he slept, he dreamt. 

He saw Master Vane, not as he had often seen him 
in the past months, clad in courtly apparel, such as 
was worn by the young noblemen of the court ; but 
arrayed in shining armour, and mounted on a great 
battle-horse. His visor was up, and Thomas could 
see his face, which was raised to heaven and shining 
as with an exceeding great light. The voice of an 
unseen herald sounded : 

Laissez les alter and the closed helmet shut 
Harry Vane’s face from view. 

Then came the thunder of the horse’s hoofs, and 
the knight, lance in rest, advanced toward a gigantic 
opponent, who, even in the fraction of time in which 
he awaited his adversary, grew in size and blackness, 
till he seemed to overspread earth and sky. But all 
undaunted that with his single arm he must vanquish 
or die. Sir Harry’s lance met this creature of the in- 
fernal regions, who quivered in his seat, tottered, and 
fell to the ground. But even as the monster lay in 
the first shock of insensibility, he stirred and par- 
tially raised himself, and Thomas knew that he not 
only lived, but would rise to many such encounters ; 


90 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


and that time and again good men and true would 
go down before him. Would he conquer for always ? 
And because the boy did not know, though he cried 
aloud to the very heavens for answer, his heart was 
sore heavy within him. 

But the knight lay upon the ground where he fell, 
and stirred not. Then his faithful squire ran to him 
and lifted his visor. But even as he raised his 
master’s head, he knew by the look upon his face 
that he was wounded unto death. Only, instead of 
the glaze that comes over the vision of the dying, a 
great light shot into the black-brown eyes that were 
looking into his, and Sir Harry’s lips moved : 

<‘Thou wilt remember.?” and though unknowing 
with what quest he was charged, his squire bowed 
his head in solemn promise. 

Then Sir Harry half arose, and reclining on one 
arm, with the other he drew his sword, and spake the 
old, ringing words : 

*‘In the name of God, of St. George, and St. 
Michael, I make thee knight ! ” 

Wake, wake, lad ! What art thou doing here .? ” 
called a voice. 

Thomas, his cheeks stained with the tears of his 
dream, awoke to find Master Vane bending over him 
and shaking him gently by the shoulder. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 9 1 

Art alive ? ” muttered the boy, staring wildly 
about the hilltop. Where is thine adversary } 
“Gramercy, I am still alive, and have met no 
worse adversary than a stray pig that might have 
disputed the right of way thither, ’tis true, only that 
I ingloriously left his pigship the path,” answered 
Master Vane, laughing. Then, as his eyes fell upon 
the heap of accoutrements near by, he looked down 
upon his young companion with the eyes that made 
men many years his senior yield their inmost 
thoughts to him. All he said, however, was, *‘By 
my faith, an I were thou, I think I would choose 
another bedroom than that cooled by the east wind 
of Boston. Truly, it pierces one’s very marrow ! ” 
He seated himself by the boy’s side, and flung the 
wide folds of his cloak about him. 

Below, the signs of life were becoming visible. 
Doors opened, men and women issued from the 
houses carrying buckets to some adjoining spring ; 
thin spirals of smoke curled upward from the 
chimneys ; through the still air came the notes of 
lusty cocks greeting the morning. The rosy glow 
on the horizon extended, a sheet of flame, nearly 
to the zenith, transforming the sea to a stretch of 
crimson and purple and opal. 

In silence, the boy still folded in the man’s close 


92 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


embrace, they two, alone on the hilltop, watched a 
new day dawn upon Boston — upon the world. 

*‘Get thee to thy home and breakfast,” said 
Master Vane, at length, smiling. “ I would not that 
my guard grew weak and faint with vigil and fasting. 
I may yet have need of the sturdy strength of thy 
right arm, Thomas.” 

At the edge of the plateau, the boy turned for 
a last look at his master, for so, in his thoughts, he 
already termed him. Master Vane stood with raised 
hat, as though to salute the coming day. Doubtless 
with some lingering fantasy of his dream, Thomas 
thought to hear the words with which the knight 
entered the lists : 


May God defend the right 1 


CHAPTER VII. 


Early in the morning of the day on which the 
new governor was to receive his office at the hands 
of the people, the market-place was thronged with 
the craftsmen and other plebeian inhabitants of the 
town. Soon, all the neighbouring plantations were 
adding their numbers, journeying afoot, in farm 
wagons and on horseback, in the latter case fre- 
quently accompanied by wife or daughter. A party 
of Indians, in savage finery, — embroidered deerskin 
robes, wampum belts, and feathers, — stood apart 
from the rest of the throng, with faces of impassive 
gravity. Sailors there were, too, from a vessel just 
landed in Boston ; rough fellows with wide breeches, 
heavy dark beards, and knives stuck in the folds of 
their gay sashes. 

To judge by the w^ords spoken on every side, most 
of the people had come thither for no other purpose 
than to behold the “Boy Governor” — the appella- 
tion bestowed by Boston’s love and pride upon the 
youthful magistrate. 


93 


94 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Truly, 'tis well said that Boston is gone mad 
over Master Vane,” said a stout old man, who, with 
a comely young matron by his side, was holding a 
horse by its bridle not far from the meeting-house. 

“ Our worshipful governor is a fine young gentle- 
man, truly,” said a bystander, an artisan evidently 
belonging to Boston. ^‘Despite his rare grace and 
beauty, and the fact that his father is high in favour 
with his gracious Majesty the king. Master Vane 
hath forsaken the vanities of the court to practise 
godliness here.” 

I have nought against the governor but his 
youth,” answered the yeoman. ‘^Methinks a lad 
of scarce four and twenty years is hardly fitted to 
take the affairs of the Colony out of the hands of 
those who led them thither — grave and tried men 
of twice and thrice his years.” 

“ Master Vane is not an ordinary youth,” answered 
the Boston man. I am told that he is esteemed, 
by those in high places, both at home and in this 
country, who have had a chance to observe him 
freely, to be a man of extraordinary parts, a pleasant 
wit, a great understanding. Certes, this much I may 
say of myself : in the time he hath been in Boston, 
nought but praise hath been heard of him ; he hath 
proven himself, in very truth, the blessed peace- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 95 

maker. All who would see the increase of the fruits 
of the Spirit must rejoice at this day’s election.” 

The talk of the multitude was hushed as the sound 
of drum and clarion announced the coming of the 
procession. The train-band, clad in burnished steel, 
with plumage nodding over their bright morions, 
although their martial display generally called forth 
the plaudits of the crowd, and the body of worship- 
ful magistrates and ministers that followed, passed 
almost in silence, the thoughts of the crowd intent 
upon one face and form. 

As the boy governor came in sight, preceded by 
his halberdiers, the throng pressed closer and yet 
more close, to catch a glimpse of Boston’s idol. All 
too soon Master Vane passed from sight into the 
meeting-house, and from the crowd without arose 
the hum of eager discussion and comment. 

Didst mark, father, how the sunlight turned his 
hair to gold — didst see the jewel-hilted sword by 
his side, and the fine lace ruffles at his wrists .? ” 
exclaimed the young matron, who was the companion 
of the yeoman. '^With what courtly grace did he 
remove his plumed hat as he entered the meeting- 
house ! An one were told the king passed by, 
’twere no matter for wonderment.” 

**'Tis not to be gainsaid that his dress became 


96 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

him right well, though better fitting the court and its 
fripperies than a rude little hamlet in a new country,” 
rejoined her father, with a shake of the head. 
‘^For mine own part, I would rather it had been 
Master Winthrop in the place of chief magistrate.” 

And so, methinks, would Master Winthrop him- 
self,” returned the artisan, significantly. ‘‘Though 
ever of grave and thoughtful cast, it seemed that our 
deputy governor’s face was a shade more serious than 
usual, when none gave glance at him, but were agape 
to behold this stripling stranger ! ” 

“ Friend, thou wrongest Master Winthrop,” an- 
swered the yeoman, gravely. “ He hath the true 
good of the colony ever at heart, not his own advan- 
tage, and would not entrust its welfare to the rash 
guidance of youth.” 

“An thou doubt’st the wisdom of our choice,” 
observed the artisan, in a manner not far removed 
from sulkiness, “ I will say only, come hither a year 
hence and see our boy governor, and in what esteem 
the people of Boston continue to hold him.” 

For answer, the yeoman turned to his companion 
with the words : 

“ Sure, there be something in this Boston air that 
goes to men’s heads like aqua vitae. They are as 
like to tear one another to pieces over trifles as 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 97 

though they had all at once forgot what it was 
to be Englishmen, and were turned French or 
Spanish ! ” 

‘‘My father means no offence, sir,” said the young 
woman, as the Boston man flushed angrily at the 
biting speech, and was evidently about to make some 
heated reply. “ Couldst tell me, sir,” she went on, 
with the manifest intention of changing a subject 
that appeared fraught with danger, “ who was the 
halberdier who walked behind his honourable Wor- 
ship — he with the curls and bright dark eyes 1 
Though the youngest, he looked the bravest and 
bonniest of the four guards.” 

“Thou must indeed be a stranger in these parts 
not to know Master Thomas Savage,” was the 
answer, given in a tone to which the equanimity was 
scarcely restored. “ His looks might not save him 
from the gallows, did he get his deserts, for he hath 
the reputation of being the most idle, mischievous 
boy in town, whom a sound flogging would mightily 
benefit. It hath been matter of wonder all over 
Boston, ay, and ’tis said in high places as well as 
low, that the worshipful Governor Vane should en- 
courage idleness and lawlessness in the person of 
Master Savage ! ” 

“ Hath he none to correct his faults ^ ” asked the 


98 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

young matron, gently. “ This young Master Savage 
hath so handsome and open a countenance that I 
would fain take his faults to be those of youth and 
indiscretion, rather than of vice.” 

Of a truth, the boy seemeth to have fallen be- 
tween two stools,” returned the artisan, his good 
humour apparently restored. ‘‘ The magistrates hesi- 
tate to call him to account, though knowing well that 
he is the leader of all the mischief in town, because 
that he is the kinsman of the great Earl of Lincoln, 
and ’tis known that unkind reports of us at home, or 
talk of dissension amongst our leaders, might well 
lead to our undoing. Besides, Master Winthrop’s 
long standing quarrel with Master Dudley, who is 
this lad’s guardian, is at last bridged by the marriage 
of their children, and the deputy governor is loath to 
arouse renewed ill feeling between them. Though 
Master Winthrop is no longer governor, his word 
carries weight in the Council. At least, this, in some 
sort, be the reading that we humble folk have given 
the fact that time and again have the magistrates 
winked at pranks of this same worshipful young 
Master Savage, when a lad without such high and 
mighty kinsfolk would have been made to smart 
roundly.” 

“ Couldst tell us where we could obtain a drink of 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


99 


beer ? ” questioned the yeoman. “ We have fared 
from Salem this morning, and Boston dust sticks in 
one’s throat.” 

“ I fear that thou wouldst find it difficult to get a 
draught at the tavern, as it is crowded with strangers ; 
but, an thou hast no ill feeling for water, yonder is a 
spring ” — the man indicated the slope behind Master 
Winthrop’s house, not far distant. “The water is 
not so wholesome as the good wine and beer of 
London ; but else, for water, it is as good as any 
in the world.” 

It would be long past meridian ere the services in 
the meeting-house were concluded and the fine com- 
pany seen again. The throng without was dispersing, 
some finding accommodations for eating the dinners 
with which they were provided at the Sabba’-day 
house adjoining the meeting-house ; others, so fortu- 
nate as to have friends or relatives in the town, 
repaired to the dwellings of these for rest and 
refreshment. The greater part, however, were mak- 
ing their way to the Common, where most of those 
who had come from a distance had left their horses 
and wagons. 

Of a sudden, there sounded, from the other side of 
the Tramount, the boom of a great gun, followed by 
another and yet another, report and echo mingling. 


LofC. 


100 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


till it seemed as though a hostile fleet was sending 
its volleys into the ill-fated town. People poured 
from the meeting-house ; the multitude without, at 
first stricken dumb with terror and amazement, 
pushed and struggled in the endeavour to get elbow 
room, to take blind flight — for in the rolling echoes 
it was difficult to determine from what direction the 
noise came. There arose a tumult of excited ex- 
clamations and angry threats, mingled with women’s 
screams. Most of the men who had come from a 
distance carried matchlocks, and while these looked 
well to the priming of their pieces, the excitement 
of the crowd momentarily increased. The cry arose, 
*‘The Pequots ! ” — a word sufficient at any time to 
let loose panic. 

In another moment the swaying, surging mob 
might have lost its reason and fallen one upon an- 
other like wild beasts, when the sound of a drum 
echoed through the crowd ; the tithing-man stood 
upon the church step, exercising the function of his 
office. The familiar roll fell upon the people’s ear 
as with the voice of acknowledged authority, and 
blindly obeying, for an instant the threatened panic 
was held. The instant was enough, for in that brief 
interval, a courtly young figure appeared on the step 
of the meeting-house, lifting a hand of authority; 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


lOI 


and as the crowd, instinctively recognising its mas- 
ter, paused at the word Hold ! ” the next words, in 
the clear, masterful young voice, reached its totter- 
ing reason : 

‘‘ There is no danger. Pirates could not have got 
past the Castle without warning being given. Mes- 
sengers have been sent to ascertain the cause of the 
alarm, which will soon be made known.” 

Indignant discussion held the crowd together, the 
general opinion now being expressed that the alarm 
had been caused by mischievous boys. Conjecture 
merged into certainty when the messengers returned 
with the information that the firing had been from 
the guns of the wrecked Mary Rose. Two of these, 
from being overcharged, were blown to atoms, and 
all had sustained such serious injury as to render 
it doubtful if they could be put to their projected 
use in providing the sorely needed armament of the 
new fort. The wicked waste of powder, too, at a 
time when ammunition was so scarce, aroused the 
most violent indignation, and the hope was expressed 
on all sides that when the culprit — or culprits — 
were discovered, he or they should be dealt with 
according to the utmost severity of the law. 

‘‘An Master Savage be not concerned in this last 
and worst prank, I lose my guess,” said the artisan 


102 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


with whom the Salem pair had held converse, as, later 
in the day, the three came together again. 

“Sir, whether or no the lad be concerned in so 
wicked a piece of mischief, — for such one must well 
deem it at the present time, — sure am I that he can- 
not live with the man whom the Colony hath this 
day chosen for its honoured governor without his 
whole life being changed thereby,” returned the old 
man, gravely. “ As he whom you call the ‘ Boy 
Governor ’ stood on yonder steps, he looked like our 
very own St. George of the dragon. Sure am I that 
his spirit, laid upon the unruly spirit of that youth 
of whom you speak, will work a change that one 
may well call a miracle ! ” 

The affair of the guns remained the chief topic of 
conversation for some days after the election ; but 
though it was said that every effort was being made 
to discover the perpetrators of the deed, the matter 
remained as much in the dark as ever. If Master 
Hutchinson had any suspicion that those of his own 
household were concerned in the affair, — for the 
shrinkage in his keg of powder could scarcely have 
escaped notice, — his reckoning with the two boys 
was in private. 

Thomas was still regarded as a member of the 
Hutchinson household, but much of his time was 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


103 


necessarily spent in attendance on the governor, and 
insensibly his relations with those in the friendly 
house at the foot of the hill altered. Into the manner 
of both Francis and Faith had come a certain defer- 
ence, such as one might display to an honoured 
guest ; on Thomas’s side, amiably accepting this def- 
erence as his due, there was also a suggestion of 
kindly patronage, as of a grown-up brother toward 
the little ones ; perhaps, too, there was not lacking a 
certain loftiness of tone and manner that would not 
have been out of place in the bearing of his Worship, 
the governor — as some of the ill-natured amongst 
Thomas’s former mates were not slow to suggest. 

When Master Vane went abroad upon affairs of 
state, or to church, the full number of his body-guard 
was in attendance ; on these occasions, Thomas bore 
himself with so haughty a mien as to create not a 
little jealousy and resentment amongst the other 
lads of his age. The cry “Way for his Worship the 
governor ! ” was ever the signal for a gaping crowd 
to gather, while women paused at their looms, and 
girls left their wheels to catch a glimpse of the bril- 
liant little pageant and its central figure. As the 
procession swept by the Hutchinson house, a sharp 
glance might have descried Faith’s figure within the 
doorway. She never failed to be at the post, and 


104 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


though Thomas always refrained from looking in 
that direction, he did not neglect, at the turn of 
the road, to bear himself with a haughtier mien, 
and hold his halberd in a firmer grasp. 

When not on escort duty, two of the halberdiers 
were expected to be within call of his Worship in 
a small room adjoining Master Vane’s hall or living- 
room, ready for any service, at the governor’s behest, 
within or without. In this anteroom were row upon 
row of books that attested the scholarly tastes of the 
young governor ; parchment-bound folios of the fath- 
ers, the lore of the rabbis, tomes heavy with monkish 
erudition. But there were not lacking volumes of 
another sort, as well, less frequently seen in the Puri- 
tan town ; tales of travel and adventure, goodly store 
of merry plays and love songs. Ere long, Thomas 
began to have a tolerable acquaintance with some 
of these latter books. There was one amongst them 
that attracted his attention, in the first instance, per- 
haps, merely because his eye was caught by the vol- 
ume projecting somewhat beyond its mates in the 
seemly row, as though lately replaced by a hasty 
hand ; it was a worn little book, shabby beyond its 
fellows, with nothing in its outward garb to suggest 
the entrancing nature of its contents. It was writ 
by one of whose great wit and learning Thomas 



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A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 105 

remembered to have heard often spoken at Sem- 
pringham, the Earl of Lincoln having, indeed, had 
the honour, in his courtier days, to have been in 
some wise the friend and companion of Lord Bacon. 
Soon all Thomas’s leisure moments were spent por- 
ing over the pages of “The New Atlantis.” The 
tale it told was of a mariner who, like the sailor in 
one of old Dickory’s stories, was cast away upon an 
unknown shore ; but instead of a desert island, the 
hero of this new romance found himself in a mar- 
vellous city, of which the lovely outward guise was 
but as the symbol of the harmony and beauty of the 
characters of those that dwelt therein. For in this 
wondrous city over seas, there lived “a Christian 
people, full of piety and humanity.” One morning, 
alone in the anteroom, William Balston, Thomas’s 
usual companion, having been despatched on some 
trifling errand, the boy was intent on the pages of 
his new treasure, when a hand was placed upon his 
shoulder. The governor stood before him. 

“ I crave your pardon, your Worship,” stammered 
Thomas, rising, “I did not hear your summons.” 

“ There was none,” answered Master Vane, smiling, 
as he picked up the book that the boy had let fall in 
his haste, and glancing at the title. 

“ I should not have taken so great a liberty, sir,” 


io6 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


said Thomas, abashed, as the governor turned upon 
him the swift, scrutinising look with which he had 
before regarded him in their brief intercourse. Hav- 
ing once glanced into its pages, the tale it told did 
so hold me that I know not how many minutes have 
passed since I opened the book.” 

‘‘ The story is new to thee.?” questioned Master 
Vane, kindly, seating himself on the window-ledge 
and motioning the boy to a place by his side. 
“ The * New Atlantis,’ ” he went on, musingly, — “a 
land where men shall dwell in peace together, though 
of differing opinions ; where no slave’s foot may touch, 
for touching, that instant he is free ; where the high- 
est shall stand equal to the lowest in the law and 
men shall honour Honour, not her trappings,” — the 
young man’s hand touched, half disdainfully, a golden 
insignia upon his breast. Of such a land hath men 
in dungeons dreamed, and smiling, gone to scaffold 
and to stake. Ay, to scaffold,” he repeated, dreamily. 
“It is ever dangerous to be a dreamer of dreams. 
My Lord Bacon was wise when he clad his vision in 
the robes of fantasy.” 

“ Where is the land — is the ‘ New Atlantis ’ a real 
place — did my Lord Bacon see it with his own eyes, 
as Prester John saw the city and wonderful palace of 
Kubla Khan .? ” questioned the boy, breathlessly. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


107 


Nay, thou wilt not find the city upon any chart,” 
answered the governor, smiling, but with an unde- 
finable sadness in his voice that the boy vaguely felt 
— scarce with consciousness, but as with some under- 
lying perception that seemed before now to have 
had part in his intercourse with Master Vane. “ I 
mistrust , even those bold travellers, Prester John 
and Marco Polo, — for whose tales thou hast such a 
fancy, — have not visited this country of the ‘New 
Atlantis ’ ; nor yet that enterprising and vivacious 
mariner of our own times. Captain John Smith,” 
quoth Master Vane, pulling one of the boy’s curls. 
“ r faith, they seem to have such a misliking for hair 
here, as a mistake of the Almighty in ornamenting 
men’s heads, that ere long one may find them cutting 
off their noses and ears as well, to produce a pleasing 
uniformity,” added the young man, tossing back his 
own beautiful curls, whose length was tipped as with 
the golden tint of childhood. Though Puritan, Mas- 
ter Vane was no Roundhead. 

Tone, no less than words, recalled to Thomas a 
certain remark of William Balston that had recently 
aroused his own wonderment and indignation. 

“All is not plain sailing with his Worship,” the 
older halberdier had said, and hinted at a rising jeal- 
ousy amongst the leading men toward Vane, and hos- 


I08 A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 

tility to certain principles the young man had not 
hesitated to avow. There had ever been a heated 
discussion in the Council concerning measures con- 
nected with the banishment, the previous year, of 
Roger Williams, because his opinions were not those 
of the churches. A bold speech of Master Vane’s 
on this topic had, it appeared, been ill received by 
the magistrates and elders. 

Why should the labours of any be suppressed, be 
they never so different ? ” the boy governor had ex- 
claimed, in conclusion, and Master Wilson had even 
taken it upon himself to rebuke so rash and hereti- 
cal an utterance. 

Consider your youth and your inexperience in the 
things of God ; and beware of peremptory conclu- 
sions, which I perceive you to be very apt unto,” he 
said, sternly. It was generally reported that the boy 
governor had by no means borne this censure in the 
spirit of one who turns his other cheek toward the 
smiter. 

“Who were thy other friends at the Castle, 
Thomas .? ” questioned Master Vane, kindly, and 
almost before the boy was aware, he was telling the 
governor of the gracious countess whom everybody 
loved, of Lady Emilia, and his friend Theophilus ; 
of old Dickory, his father’s former bowman ; and 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT log 

presently, though Master Vane spake little himself, 
only looked at his young companion with eyes that 
seemed to change with every mood and shade of 
thought, he was drawn on, insensibly, to say more and 
more concerning himself and his inmost thoughts, till 
ere long he found himself telling the governor of the 
hopes and dreams and heroic ambitions that had led 
him to the New World and in which he had been so 
speedily and grievously disappointed. 

Suddenly he was aware that Master Vane was 
looking away from him and seemed lost in thought. 

I crave your pardon, sir ; 'twas over bold of me 
to talk so freely,” faltered the boy. 

But the young governor, in answer, smiled, and 
putting an arm around his shoulder, even as an elder 
brother might have done, gave confidence for con- 
fidence, telling the lad of his own early life in the 
green depths of Kent, of his later boyhood at West- 
minster School, and of his chosen friends, Thomas 
Scott and Arthur Hazelrigg. He described the 
brilliant days that followed, at the court of Austria, 
whither he had gone in the train of the English am- 
bassador. Great names, Gustavus Adolphus, Tilly, 
Wallenstein, fell easily from the lips of one who had 
been behind the scenes when the most astute diplo- 
matists of Europe held council together in Vienna. 


I 10 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 


More gravely he told of his later sojourn in Geneva, 
where he had become interested in the doctrines of 
Calvin. It was not difficult to guess at the dismay 
of Sir Henry Vane when he found that the gifted son 
on whom he had built such hopes had “turned 
Puritan,” although Master Vane spake not of the 
differences betwixt himself and his father, which had 
led to his coming to Boston. 

Thomas listened, entranced, marvelling, at times, 
that his idol could once have been a boy like himself, 
enjoying the same sports, with comrades of his own 
age and tastes ; most wonderful of all, with evidence 
of something of the same aptitude for mischief. Yet 
still, throughout the narration, in all the underlying 
zest of life natural in one for whom the world held 
all good things, there were ever and again hints of 
the man that was to be. Half fearing that some 
untoward word or motion might unloose the half ca- 
ressing, half protecting pressure about his shoulder, 
Thomas scarce drew breath when Master Vane lapsed 
into a silence that lasted, perhaps minutes, perhaps 
hours, for in the quickening of the boy’s spirit that 
came upon him in that hour of mutual confidence, 
the reckoning was not of time but of eternity. 

At last the governor aroused himself and looked 
at his watch. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


III 


** I have work for thee, Thomas,’' he said, with a 
return to his usual alert, forceful manner. “ Dis- 
tressful rumours are abroad concerning some rising 
disaffection amongst the Indians. Fair of speech 
and profuse of promise though this savage chieftain 
called Miantonimo is, he hath not yet made his 
customary annual tribute, but delays with one specious 
pretext after another. In view of this and other 
matters, many of which are deemed trivial by some, 
though held of importance by others, it is thought 
best to confer with Captain Dudley concerning the 
best measures to adopt in putting Boston into a con- 
dition of defence and for the concerted action of 
the Colony in case of need. Thou wilt set out for 
Agawam at once, with word to Captain Dudley to 
come to Boston. Thy mission is to be kept a secret 
from all, as a panic might precipitate conditions that 
at present are indeterminate. Thou art simply going 
to visit thy guardian. But if need be,” he drew a 
ring with an armorial seal off his finger and slipped 
it upon Thomas’s hand, — “ remember, thou art jour- 
neying ‘ In the name of the king ” 

Thomas repeated the potent words, his lips for an 
instant touching the governor’s outstretched hand. 

“ Can I trust thee } ” questioned Master Vane, 
gravely, and again the feeling was strong upon the 


I 12 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


boy that something deeper than their spoken sense 
lay in the words. There was passing wonder, too, 
that he, the youngest of those called to the personal 
service of the governor, should have been singled out 
for so important a mission. With all the fervour of his 
imaginings and the influence of the wonderful hour 
that had just passed, as well as beneath the influence 
of that masterful look and tone, the boy answered : 

“ Your Worship, I would die for you ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Thomas found Francis, bow and arrow in hand, 
impatiently waiting his coming. 

What possessed thee to linger all this while ? ” 
he demanded. ‘‘The pigeons were never so thick, 
nor flying so low over the Charlestown marshes. All 
the boys who could get leave have gone. Dean is 
waiting for us at the ferry.” 

“Nay, I have other matters to which I must 
attend,” answered Thomas, loftily. “ I am on the 
governor’s service.” 

“But the others are on duty this afternoon,” 
objected Francis. “I saw them but now going up 
the hill.” 

“I am detailed on special service,” Thomas con- 
descended to explain. 

“What may it be ? ” asked Francis, with gratifying 
curiosity. 

“’Twould scarce be proper that I told,” returned 
Thomas ; “ the despatches of his Worship are not 
matter for common speech.” 

113 


1 14 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

‘*’Tis a pity thou canst not go,” said Francis, over 
his shoulder, already at some distance down the road, 
the prospect of the sport on the marshes being of 
more interest than trivial matters of state. Good- 
bye ; I will make haste to join Dean.” 

“ Wait but a moment,” called Thomas. ‘‘ My way 
lies through Charlestown. I may as well take my 
bow and arrows along. ’Twould be pity to lose such 
rare sport.” 

Divesting himself with all speed of his accoutre- 
ments, Thomas found Faith busy at some household 
task in the kitchen. He could not refrain from giving 
some hint of his real mission when the girl glanced 
at his bow and arrows. It was an unusually fine 
bow, of seasoned yew, and had been made for Thomas 
by his friend old Dickory. 

‘‘Farewell, Faith,” he said; “thou wilt not forget 
me .? ” 

“ Dost think I am like to lose my wits before thy 
return, ” retorted the girl, “ or that I am so near 
being bedlam that my memory will take leave of 
me ere bedtime } ” 

“If I come not back,” added Thomas, gravely, 
“then think of this moment as my farewell.” 

The road to Agawam had been recently laid out, 
replacing the old Indian trail which was at first 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 1 5 

the only means of communication between the settle- 
ments to the north of Boston. This highway followed 
the coast, holding on its string a series of plantations 
with farmhouses between, so that at scarcely any 
time would a traveller be beyond the reach of aid. 
Except under stress of hunger, wild beasts did not 
now venture near the settlements, so there was 
scarcely a possibility of danger on his present mission. 
But Faith’s indifference piqued to exaggeration. 

** Why shouldst thou not come back — art not go- 
ing pigeon shooting with the other boys } ” queried 
the girl, and this time there was something of real 
concern in her voice. 

“ There are doings afoot of which maids may not 
know,” answered Thomas, solemnly. “ Yet one boon 
I would ask of thee ; give me thy favour — thy ker- 
chief an thou wilt — to take with me on this quest.” 

“What wouldst thou do with it ” asked Faith. 
“ Art going to pay another visit to thy friend the 
squaw > ” she added, mischievously. 

“ Thou art over ready with pert words. Faith,” re- 
joined Thomas, with dignity. “ Not so did Lady 
Emilia scoff or jest when I bade her farewell.” 

“ Perhaps she had not the wit therefor,” retorted 
Faith. 

“It may be she sees me even now, as she vowed 


I I 6 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

to do when I was setting forth on a mission of 
danger,” meditated Thomas, his errand increasing 
in peril as he dwelt upon it. 

Lady Emilia hath passing good eyesight to see 
across three thousand miles of ocean,” answered 
Faith. “An she can hear thee, too, I am thinking 
she can scarce be charmed with the nonsense thou 
art talking,” added the girl, with the asperity that 
the name of Lady Emilia ever seemed in some mys- 
terious fashion to evoke. 

An impatient whistle from without brought Thomas 
to a realisation of passing time, and he would have 
joined his friend without a backward glance, but a few 
steps from the house Faith’s voice gave him pause. 

“ An thou wilt have a favour, take this,” she said, 
holding out a small silken parcel. 

Thrusting it into his doublet without a glance, even 
of conjecture, and flinging back some incoherent word 
of thanks, Thomas hurried after Francis. Dean was 
already at the ferry, in ill-humour at the delay and its 
cause. The three boys were at last set on the Charles- 
town shore, whence a smart walk took them to the 
marshes. The report of the good sport had not been 
exaggerated. Dean’s first arrow spitted two birds. 

“ Beat that, an thou canst,” he cried. “ Wouldst 
like my bow, Thomas ” he added, jeeringly, as the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 1 / 

Other boy let fly an arrow that shot wide of the 
entire flock. '' Maybe better luck would be thine ! ” 

“ Neither thy bow nor thy company have I asked 
for, Dean Winthrop,” retorted Thomas ; “ and as for 
thy shot, thou sayest well ’twas mere luck.” He 
fitted another arrow to the string, but vexation was 
now added to poor marksmanship, and again the ar- 
row sailed harmless through the air. 

“Til lay thee a wager — my bow against thine — 
that my string of pigeons will be twice thine ere sun- 
set,” cried Dean, tauntingly. 

“’Tis not fair. Dean,” protested Francis. “Thou 
hast been in the country these five years, and hast 
been gaining skill all the while with bow and arrow. 
Thomas hath not had a tithe of thy practice. He 
shoots right well, too, for one so new to the sport.” 

“ An he is afraid to venture his bow, let him brag 
no more,” answered Dean. “ Think’st thou he would 
risk that gold ring upon his finger in such a trial } 
Thomas’s words are ever bigger than his deeds. 
Afraid of a squaw, forsooth ! ” jeered the boy. 

At the last words, it was with difficulty that 
Francis restrained his friend from falling with his 
fists upon Dean. 

“ Wilt thou be a firebrand } ” he urged. “ Canst 
not see that the other boys are within sight and 


1 1 8 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

hearing? An thou getst into another brawl, my 
father hath said thou shouldst not go shooting again 
this year. Talk not of wagers either ! ” 

The recollection of Master Hutchinson’s threat 
stayed Thomas in his belligerent purpose and he con- 
tented himself with glowering at Dean, who from a 
safe distance gave back a sneering laugh. 

Nay, ni take his wager ! ” cried Thomas, with 
sparkling eyes. An my score be not twice thine, 
my ring and my bow — against thy bow — shall be 
thine.” 

“Done,” cried Dean, and without more ado, the 
trial of skill between the two boys began. 

From the outset, there could be no doubt as to 
its result. No arrow from Dean’s bow failed of 
its mark ; sometimes, indeed, several pigeons were 
spitted upon the same dart ; while Thomas, under 
the combined influence of vexation at his continued 
failures and irritation at Dean’s jeers, shot more and 
more wildly. Much time, too, was consumed in 
fruitless search for the errant missiles in the long, 
tangled marsh grass ; when, ere long, his store of 
arrows was exhausted, another dispute arose between 
him and his opponent as to whether it was fair to 
allow Thomas the use of Francis’s quiver, which the 
latter generously placed at his disposal. In the midst 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT II9 

of a hot argument upon this point, Dean pointed 
to the sun, just sinking below the horizon. 

One hundred and twenty pigeons,” he counted, 
triumphantly. ‘‘ ’Twill not take thee long to count 
thine,” he sneered. 

Without a word, Thomas flung his bow at his 
rival’s feet. 

I would redeem the ring,” he said. ’Tis a 
privilege fairly asked and granted. Ask what thou 
wilt,” he added, haughtily. 

‘^Nay, I’ll take the ring too,” insisted Dean. 

Art going back on thy word ” he added, scorn- 
fully. 

Vouchsafing no reply, Thomas drew the ring — 
the governor’s signet-ring — from his finger, and with 
the strength of passion flung it to a distance. Dean, 
with an angry exclamation, went in search. 

Thomas stood lost in thought. 

Not till that moment had the recollection of his 
neglected errand come to him. Precious time had 
been squandered in idle sport, and should darkness 
fall ere he regained the highway, the trackless 
marshes offered illimitable possibilities of losing one’s 
way. The homeward track was indicated plainly 
enough by the trampled grass and weeds through 
which they had come ; but to retrace his steps to 


120 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


the spot where they had left the highway, while un- 
doubtedly the only prudent course to pursue, would 
add an indefinite distance to his belated journey. 
The other boys had long ago gone home. 

'‘Art not going farther.!^” queried Francis, in sur- 
prise, as his friend set his face in the opposite direc- 
tion from Charlestown. “Thou’rt mad,” he cried, 
running after him. “ Wouldst look for the arrows ? 
’Tis too dark to find them ; an thou tak’st not heed, 
we shall not be home ere curfew. I will right gladly 
give thee half of my arrows, and to-morrow will help 
thee make more.” 

Luckily for Thomas’s pride, the dusk concealed 
the gathering tears in his eyes, and the quiver in 
his voice was overridden in the surliness of the tone 
with which he repulsed his friend’s offer. 

“ Let be, I tell thee, Francis ! I want mine own 
arrows, and none others ! Go home with Dean] and 
leave me to do as I will ! ” 

But Francis continued to follow, though at some 
distance. Dean, searching in vain for the ring in the 
long, tangled grass, was calling impatiently to Francis 
to come to his help. Thomas, goaded by the ne- 
cessity of getting somewhere where he could give 
unchecked vent to the unmanly sobs that were 
threatening to choke him, without another backward 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


I2I 


look set out on a dead run. When at last he stayed 
his steps, no one was in sight. Flinging himself on 
the ground beneath a clump of willows, he dug his 
fingers into the wet earth and gave himself up to 
unavailing misery. In those moments of bitter self 
upbraiding he did not spare himself. He had let his 
own pleasure take the place of his master’s business, 
dallying in a mission of which the importance had 
generously been confided to him. In a moment 
of pique and childish passion, he had bartered the 
governor’s signet-ring in a foolish wager. His heart 
sank lower still as he reflected that he might fail 
in his mission because of the lack of that puissant 
symbol. He saw again the eyes of the young gov- 
ernor looking into his, and felt the pressure of Mas- 
ter Vane’s arm about his shoulder. He recalled his 
own words at parting : 

Your Worship, I would die for you ! ” 

Faint from long fasting and continued exercise in 
the keen air, before continuing his journey — for come 
what might, he was resolved to reach Agawam that 
night — he plucked the two pigeons he had shot, and 
scraping together a few twigs, thrust his hand into 
his doublet for the piece of match with which he was 
provided. In so doing, his fingers came into contact 
with the little silken parcel given him by Faith. A 


122 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


vagrant curiosity led him to open it ; to his surprise, 
it contained the string of gold beads that had be- 
longed to Faith’s grandmother and which he well 
knew to be the girl’s most treasured possession. 
Certainly Faith was given to astonishing freaks ; 
after which careless conclusion, he thrust the beads 
into his doublet again, as a matter of infinitely less 
importance than the match. 

His meal finished, he arose refreshed and heart- 
ened for his farther journey. Unfortunately, the 
sky was overcast, so he could not guide his course 
by the north star ; nor was he able to get his bear- 
ings from the moss on the tree trunks, as a few 
stunted willows were the only wooded growth on the 
marshes. He set off in the direction in which he 
supposed Agawam to lie, hoping, ere long, to strike 
the highroad. But with every step, his difficulties 
seemed to increase ; the long grass wound itself 
about his feet, so that more than once he tripped and 
fell headlong ; now and again, in a fruitless endeav- 
our to make up for lost time, he broke into a run, 
nor stayed his steps till compelled thereto by lack of 
breath. He was conscious that he should long ago 
have reached the highway, were he headed in the 
right direction ; but something of the bewilderment 
that comes upon men in a solitude had overtaken 


A FUmTAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 23 

him, and he staggered on in circles, impelled only by 
one thought — he must keep going. He was very 
sleepy ; once or twice he aroused himself with the 
feeling that he was in a nightmare, from which he 
should presently awaken to find himself in bed, with 
Francis by his side. He even fancied that he heard 
his friend’s voice calling him. But when he tried to 
answer, the spell as of a nightmare was upon him 
and his lips were held. 

The first signs of day were appearing in the sky 
when Thomas was aroused from his lethargy by a 
tall form apparently rising out of the earth directly 
before him ; the next moment he was felled to the 
ground. 

When he came to himself, he was bound hand and 
foot, and tied fast to a stake. The stars had dis- 
appeared, and the morning light was stealing over 
the plain. The embers of a fire were close at hand, 
about which some score of savage figures were dis- 
cernible ; the sound of voices reached him, following 
one upon another, as though in earnest debate. The 
boy’s mind, stimulated to its utmost activity by the 
ominous situation, puzzled over the meaning of this 
conference, for such it appeared to be. Why should 
it be held at a distance from any Indian settlement } 
for no house or wigwam was within sight. Intently 


124 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


watchful, it was presently borne in upon him that 
there were two parties in the debate — a surmise to 
which was added almost the strength of certainty 
when a finely formed savage on the farther side of 
the fire, who had taken a leading part in the dis- 
cussion, arose, and followed by ten or twelve of the 
other braves, stole out over the plain to the west. 
The rest of the council were making ready, also, for 
the march ; the thongs that bound Thomas were cut 
and he was motioned to rise and follow his captors. 
He made several attempts to talk with the Indian to 
whose special care he appeared to have been con- 
signed, but either from disinclination or lack of com- 
prehension on the savage’s part, his efforts were 
unavailing. 

It was now evident from the sun, at some distance 
above the horizon, that they were journeying almost 
due south, which would indicate that his captors 
were of the tribe of the Narragansetts. Swift upon 
this surmise followed another. The other party in 
the council had departed to the west, and to the 
west lived the dreaded Pequots. Could it be that 
this savage conference on the borders of south and 
west, meant that some concerted treachery to the 
English was afoot between the two tribes } 

Toward noon, they reached an Indian settlement. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 12$ 

consisting of a number of rude houses and wigwams 
within a pale. Thomas was taken to the principal 
house in the enclosure, where the savage who had 
led the returning party held a brief consultation with 
other members of the tribe. With the aid of an 
Indian who spoke a few words of English, Thomas 
tried to make known his situation. He was travel- 
ling to the north on a mission for the English gov- 
ernor ; assuming an air of confidence that he was far 
from feeling, he assured the chief that would the 
latter forward him to his destination, he should be 
properly rewarded ; while, if he detained him, it 
would be at the cost of the displeasure of the gov- 
ernor. It was evident that this speech made some- 
thing of an impression on his captors, and in the 
discussion that followed, Thomas caught the name, 
several times repeated, Harrivane.” 

Presently the interpreter turned to him again and 
questioned him closely regarding his relationship 
with the great chief of the white men. It was not 
easy, to the limited understanding of the savage, 
to explain his exact office about the governor’s per- 
son. Doubtless, too, the boy’s naturally lordly bear- 
ing aided the misconception, for the reply that was 
given the Narragansett chieftain was : 

“ Him Harrivane’s little brother.” 


126 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


The interview was concluded by the chief wav- 
ing his hand, whereupon Thomas was conducted to 
another house near by. Indian curs and children 
were tumbling over one another by the entrance, and 
close at hand a squaw was bending over a huge 
kettle balanced upon a fire. Presently the savages 
squatted around, dipping pieces of wood or birch 
bark into a mess of coarsely pounded maize into 
which pieces of fish were stirred. Despite the 
untempting appearance of the food, Thomas ate 
eagerly. After the meal his captor motioned him 
to a pile of skins within the house, and exhausted 
with his long walk and the accompanying excite- 
ment, the boy flung himself upon this couch and 
was soon fast asleep. 

He had been unconscious an indefinite number of 
hours, when he was awakened by a tumult without ; 
hastening from the house, he found what was appar- 
ently the entire settlement — men, women, and chil- 
dren and dogs — in a state of the highest excitement, 
surging about an Indian who was relating something 
that appeared to be the cause of the tumult. Catch- 
ing sight, at last, of the savage who had acted as his 
interpreter, Thomas questioned him as to the mean- 
ing of the uproar. 

It appeared that an Englishman, John Oldham by 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


127 


name, with two little boys, had been foully murdered 
while in their boat, not far from Plymouth. The 
appearance of the bodies of the murdered man and 
children left no doubt that the perpetrators of the 
deed were Indians. After awhile, the tumult sub- 
sided, and though, on several subsequent occasions, 
Thomas tried to obtain further information regard- 
ing the murder, the subject had apparently been 
interdicted. 

Although he may thereby have secured better 
treatment, Thomas had also, unwittingly, drawn the 
toils more closely about him when the savages 
imputed to him the honour of being the ‘Tittle 
brother of Harrivane.” In the ticklish situation 
that the recent murders had placed the relations 
between the Narragansetts and the English, the 
value to the savages of such a hostage as the gov- 
ernor’s brother could hardly be overestimated. Had 
it not been for anxiety regarding his precarious posi- 
tion and the heavy thought of his own faithlessness, 
Thomas would not have been without pleasure in his 
present life. There were even times when it would 
have seemed well to him to give up all thoughts of 
returning to civilisation and cast in his lot for ever 
with these wild people. A liberal share of food was 
given him, and in the ravenous appetite induced by 


128 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 


his open-air life, he was not overparticular as to its 
quality or method of preparation. He fished, and 
swam, and ran, and wrestled, and shot with the In- 
dian boys of his age : if he found himself the inferior 
of his savage companions in most of these sports, he 
proved himself their superior in wrestling, in which 
long practice with the lads of an English village 
stood him in good stead ; in running, too, his nat- 
ural superiority — for he was built for speed — out- 
distanced most of his rivals. Within the limits of 
the settlement, he was free to go and come as he 
would ; beyond its confines, however, several ineffec- 
tual attempts at escape showed him the futility of 
any effort to evade the vigilance of his savage hosts. 
One day, while fishing in the stream that ran near 
the settlement, he sought, under pretence of whip- 
ping the upper banks, to increase, gradually, the 
distance between himself and his companions ; but 
scarcely had he succeeded in placing a slight space 
between them and him, when a tall Indian arose 
from the deep grass near by, and in the most 
friendly manner offered, by signs, to show the boy 
a place where the trout bit best. Nor was he more 
successful when, shooting with the Indian lads, he 
made a feint of searching for arrows that had out- 
sped their mark. Stealing a glance over his shoulder 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 29 

to see if he were observed, at his very elbow was a 
savage with the stray arrows in his hand. Any at- 
tempt to escape under cover of the darkness seemed 
likewise futile. The climate in that part of the 
country, although at no great distance from Boston, 
was many degrees warmer than in the seaport town, 
and the nights were already oppressively hot. The 
savages slept without the lodge ; more than once, 
when Thomas looked cautiously about the slumber- 
ing circle, the movement, slight though it was, was 
invariably followed by one or another of the appar- 
ent sleepers giving signs of wakefulness. 

One hot afternoon he was sitting in the shade 
of the lodge, idly watching a fight between some of 
the snarling curs, when he was suddenly seized from 
behind ; and bound hand and foot, was thrown within 
the house. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Throughout the remainder of the long, sultry 
day he lay, tormented by mosquitoes and flies, a 
green-headed monster with a sharp sting causing him 
unspeakable misery ; the curs and children stumbled 
over him, the squaws gave him a vicious kick as they 
passed. He was given no food, and suffered tor- 
ments from thirst. He could only conjecture that 
this change in his captors’ temper toward him had 
been caused by some development arising from the 
Oldham murder. By and by, he heard the savages 
at some sort of a feast without. He recalled that 
he had somewhere heard that before the Indians set 
out on a forced march, they ate to repletion. At 
last, one by one, the savages flung themselves upon 
the ground and all was still. Apparently secure 
that escape from his bonds was impossible, and after 
their orgy doubtless sleeping more heavily than usual, 
the watch that night upon the prisoner was relaxed. 
Lying where he had been flung, just within the en- 
trance of the lodge, even had not physical misery 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 3 I 

intervened, his ominous situation would have pre- 
cluded, for Thomas, the possibility of sleep. 

The hours wore slowly on till, as nearly as the 
boy could judge, it was after midnight, when his 
ears, painfully alert to any noise, detected a slight 
movement near the door; he could not turn his 
eyes in that direction without moving his whole 
body. With every sense strained to the utmost, he 
awaited the repetition of the almost imperceptible 
sound, hoping he knew not what, for help in his 
present situation seemed impossible. The noise was 
presently repeated, and after a moment’s pause, in 
which Thomas scarcely drew breath, he felt rather 
than heard the presence of a softly moving body 
coming nearer and nearer. Suddenly a hand was 
placed upon his mouth, and a face bent low over 
his. 

It was that of Francis Hutchinson. 

After a handclasp — of irrepressible joy on the 
one side, of encouragement on the other — Francis 
sank close by his friend’s side. The next moment, 
a knife was at work upon his bonds. Even with 
a keen blade, it was no easy matter to cut the 
rawhide thongs ; when they were at last severed, 
Thomas’s arms and legs were numb from their long 
confinement, and, for a time, movement was impos- 


132 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


sible. Setting his teeth in the agony of returning 
circulation, he succeeded, at last, in moving one limb 
after another ; after an eternity of suspense, he was 
able to give the signal to start. 

Scarcely drawing breath, the two boys crawled from 
the lodge, and worked their way past the recumbent 
forms without, expecting every moment that a savage 
would arise or one of the swarming curs give the 
alarm. Reaching, at last, the outside of the settle- 
ment, they regained their feet, and hastened on- 
ward. The first part of the way led through a growth 
of scrub pine, and on the soft carpet of pine needles 
beneath, they were able to make good speed ; for- 
tunately, too, the night was clear, so they had the 
north star to guide their course. No breath was 
wasted in speech, till some miles had been put 
between them and the Indian village ; then, avoiding 
the relaxation of the muscles that would have fol- 
lowed flinging themselves upon the ground, as both 
longed to do, they took a few minutes’ rest by leaning 
upright against a tree. Francis answered his friend’s 
eager questioning. 

“ I followed thee the day on the marshes. I 
thought at first thou wert hunting for the arrows, 
and wouldst speedily have enough of the search. 
No, Dean could not find the ring. I told him that he 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 33 

could go home alone, an he would, which he lost no 
time in doing, saying I was a fool to give concern to 
a bad-tempered fellow like thyself — the harshness 
of the words was contradicted by the tone in which 
they were spoken. “ I meant, at first, only to give 
thee time for thy spleen to cool ; but when I saw 
thee cooking the birds, it came over me what thou 
hadst said about being on private business for his 
Worship, the governor, which, at the time, I thought 
to be some of thy foolery, and so judged it best to 
keep, for awhile at least, at a distance. When thou 
took’ St to thy heels, I could not keep up with thee, 
for thy legs are of the stuff of which the deer’s are 
made ; and so, in the darkness, I lost thee. 

I called again and again, but if thou heardest, 
thou gavest no sign ; then thinking it useless to fare 
farther till morning, I laid myself down and went to 
sleep. When at last I awoke it was nearly dawn, 
and, to my great joy, I saw thee again not a great 
way off. Almost on the instant the savage sprang 
upon thee. I dared not go nearer whilst thou lay 
bound on the meadow, but when the powwow broke 
up, I followed again till thou and the Indians reached 
the settlement. Then I judged it best to cut across 
the country to the coast, which I thought by the salt 
air on my face to be at no great distance. I arrived 


134 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


at Plymouth just as the news of the murder of John 
Oldham reached the settlement. Some of the peo- 
ple were for instant reprisal, but the more prudent 
were against such a course, these arguing that the 
murder might have been the act of a few renegade 
Indians, not involving any concerted action on the 
part of the tribe. When I urged that any hour 
might determine your fate, it was answered that 
Boston had refused powder to Plymouth in its need ; 
it could scarce be expected of Plymouth men that 
they would risk their lives to save any one from 
Boston. Then came the tidings that Endicott, with 
a force of ninety men, had set out from Salem, and 
was marching southward, burning villages and giving 
orders that all savages over the age of ten years 
should be killed.’' 

That was the cause of the excitement yesterday,” 
interpolated Thomas. 

** Endicott was said to be well supplied with ammu- 
nition, so it was thought best by the Plymouth Coun- 
cil to await his coming,” resumed P'rancis. **But 
meantime there was almost the certainty that the 
Narragansetts would either withdraw into the farther 
wilderness, taking you with them, when the difficul- 
ties of reaching you would be a thousandfold in- 
creased, or, incensed at Endicott’s reprisal, that they 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 35 

would instantly ” — Francis hesitated to complete the 
sentence, but his friend’s paling cheek testified that 
Thomas understood without words. ‘‘So, without 
letting any one know my intention, I set out alone 
for the Narragansett village,” concluded Francis. 

In turn, Thomas related, briefly, the incidents of 
his captivity, and the two boys resumed their march. 
The remainder of the way was through a jungle 
of fallen trees and rank undergrowth, tangled with 
vines into an almost impenetrable thicket, in which 
progress was slow. Not till they were come within 
sight of an isolated farmhouse or two did the boys 
feel themselves safe from pursuit ; here they paused 
to take counsel. Almost due east lay Boston ; to 
the northeast was Agawam. So many days had now 
elapsed since Thomas set forth on his mission, that its 
accomplishment at the present hour was, to say the 
least, superfluous. But the boy was ready to seize upon 
any pretext for avoiding Boston, to which even the 
dreaded Agawam appeared an agreeable alternative. 
The thought of facing Master Vane with the confes- 
sion of his culpable failure seemed to Thomas of all 
hard things the most impossible. Not that he feared 
hard words or punishment ; in his present frame of 
mind, indeed, he would have faced any penalty rather 
than meet the reproach of the black-brown eyes that 


I 36 A FUHITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

had looked into his very soul. So, after considerable 
discussion, Francis took the direction to Boston alone, 
charged with the mission of imparting to the authori- 
ties the circumstance of the savage council on the 
borders of south and west, — an incident that in 
the present war cloud assumed added importance, 
— while Thomas pushed on to Agawam. As had 
been anticipated, Captain Dudley had set out for 
Boston immediately on receiving belated word from 
his Worship, the governor, desiring his attendance, 
leaving word with his household that should Master 
Thomas Savage appear, he was to remain till further 
orders. It was evident, from Dean Winthrop’s re- 
port of what took place on the marshes, that the 
governor’s messenger had stopped to play by the 
way and a more trustworthy emissary had been 
promptly despatched in his stead. Neither in Bos- 
ton nor Agawam had there been any subsequent 
alarm concerning the two boys, it being supposed, 
in either place, that they were safe in the other. 

The Agawam household was a large one, consist- 
ing not only of Captain Dudley’s immediate family, 
but that of his daughter. Mistress Bradstreet and 
her young children. Thomas had been freely in 
and out of the steward’s house in the old days at 
Sempringham. Many a time had he and Theophilus, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 37 

galloping through the streets of old Boston, turned 
in at the house beneath the shadow of St. Botolph’s 
Church ; so that he did not enter the Dudley house 
hold as a stranger, although in any case the manner 
in which he was received would speedily have put 
him on terms of affectionate familiarity. He soon 
found, however, that a different order of things pre- 
vailed therein than that which had obtained in either 
the schoolmaster’s or the Hutchinson household. Au- 
thority might find less arbitrary expression than in 
many homes of the time, but its rule was none the 
less absolute ; for Captain Dudley was a man whose 
dominant personality never failed to make itself felt 
in whatever company he might be, and, in his ab- 
sence, his household was still ruled by his spirit. A 
certain military order and precision prevailed, notable 
even in an age when disobedience in a child might 
be punished with death ; and even a nature as natu- 
rally insubordinate as Thomas Savage’s could scarcely 
fail to feel its salutary influence. 

Although Captain Dudley was accounted one of 
the richest men in the Colony, and accustomed, in 
his English home, to such mode of living as 
became the gentry, the difficulty of procuring ser- 
vants in the new country, particularly away from 
the centres of population, was very great, so that 


138 A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 

most of the work at Agawam, within and without, 
devolved upon the members of the family. Every 
season brought its special round of labour, and no 
good housewife would allow the tasks of spring to 
crowd upon those of summer, nor these suffer dal- 
liance into the burdens of autumn, which must give 
place in turn to the duties with which the brief 
winter days were filled. In addition to this cease- 
less yearly round, there were at Agawam all the 
manifold labours incident to the establishment of a 
home in the wilderness. 

The special task that devolved upon Thomas was 
that of preparing the flax, from its first stage, in a 
crop of tender green stalks with blue blossoms, to 
its final condition for the wheel. It was hard, dirty, 
tedious work, demanding unremitting care and atten- 
tion, else the labour of weeks might be thrown away, 
and the entire crop, for which the household de- 
pended for its annual supply of linen, be ruined. The 
labour, too, must be performed under the burning 
heat of a semi-tropical summer, that often produced 
a headache, and always a burning thirst that it 
seemed as though nothing could quench. Fre- 
quently the boy chafed inwardly at the task im- 
posed upon him ; sometimes he grumbled thereat to 
his companions ; more than once he went to bed 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 39 

thinking that on the morrow he would run away 
from this degrading servitude. But he arose feel- 
ing as though something held him to the labour he 
despised, — nay, that seemed to bind him to doing 
it as well as he could. Partly it was, perhaps, in 
these new thoughts, that the recent peril from which 
he had almost miraculously been rescued had exer- 
cised a sobering influence upon him ; largely too be- 
cause of his unavailing sorrow and remorse at his 
faithlessness when on his master’s business. Then, 
whatever the lad’s faults, his was not a nature to 
render grudging service to those whom he held in 
such high and loving esteem as he did Mistress 
Dudley and sweet young Mistress Anne. So, as the 
days went on, he grew to accept the situation with 
a better grace than would once have seemed possi- 
ble ; some of his most irksome tasks grew lighter, 
and he even voluntarily assumed others that he 
would once have slighted as irksome or scorned as 
menial. 

Sometimes it seemed as though many years had 
passed since he was the governor’s halberdier, think- 
ing himself a man. He thought of his companions 
in the service, who, although his seniors by several 
years, had yielded their wills almost unreservedly 
to him. He recalled the playtimes of Francis and 


140 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


himself, and how unfailingly his friend had followed 
all his steps. He thought of Mistress Hutchinson, 
who had made him as one of her own children from 
the day on shipboard when she had cared for him 
in his seasickness and misery. He sometimes won- 
dered — and there was not a little heartache in the 
thought — whether he had cared enough for all 
these dear people when he was with them. 

Most of all, his thoughts dwelt on Faith with a 
persistency for which he could give no reason, unless 
it might be there was some charm in the gold beads 
she had given him at parting ; some strange, potent 
power whereby to call up the image of their giver. 
At first he had looked at the token with mere idle 
curiosity, by degrees, with a speculative interest that 
ere long took to formulating foolish, impossible rea- 
sons as to why Faith should have given him her 
chief treasure. He recalled how once he had come 
upon her standing a-tiptoe before the dresser, gaz- 
ing at her own reflection in a burnished copper skim- 
mer ; the beads were about her neck ; she had been 
wearing them, it seemed, concealed beneath her ker- 
chief ; for such girlish ornaments were forbidden by 
the court as garish gauds.” He had teased Faith 
not a little for such display of vanity. Lady Emilia 
had necklaces and girdles galore, of gold and precious 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 141 

stones, and apparently attached but little value to 
such adornments. Thomas at first had had no 
thought of what the gold beads might have meant 
to Faith ; by and by, when there came to him some 
glimmering idea of what the one poor little bauble 
may have been to its owner, he wondered again why 
Faith should have given it to him, and, so wonder- 
ing, looked at the beads oftener than ever, and never 
without their evoking the image of their wearer. 

Yet, in these mental images. Faith never appeared 
exactly as the little maid who, whether or no, would 
accompany Francis and himself on all their boyish ex- 
peditions. He found himself puzzling as to wherein 
lay the change, or when he had first begun to notice 
it. He spent long hours trying to bring before him 
the colour of Faith’s eyes, the shape of her nose, 
the contour of her chin, that had such a pretty, pro- 
voking fashion of tilting itself upward when the girl 
was bent on having her wilful way. 

He thought of the times when he had bidden her 
stay at home, saying that maids might not do all that 
their brothers could, and recalled her answer, Why 
not, an they can do it as well or better ? ” 

Even boyish pride must confess that Faith had 
been no whit behind Francis and himself in any of 
the sports they had in common. After all. Faith 


142 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

was a good little maid, despite an occasional over- 
sharpness of tongue and an over-desire to do those 
things that become not a woman, and some day, 
when she was grown up, he hoped she would marry 
suitably. Dean Winthrop would make a proper hus- 
band, notwithstanding his overbearing ways and an 
unbecoming fondness for being “ cock of the walk,” 
an ambition that ill-beseemed him, particularly at a 
time when another was present better suited to that 
eminence. He looked again at the beads, and, on 
second thoughts, decided that Dean was not worthy 
of his little sister, and that he — Faith’s brother — 
would never give his consent to the proposed nup- 
tials. Besides, a brother-in-law with warts was al- 
most as much of an impossibility as a knight with 
those excrescences. 

Master Dudley had found means to communicate 
with his family shortly after his arrival in Boston, 
by which they learnt that he had been appointed 
major-general of the Colony forces ; but since then 
no news had reached the Agawam household from 
the absent husband and father. Tidings from other 
sources of the Indian disturbances occasionally came 
to the isolated plantation, but of these reports it was 
difficult to say how much was authentic and how 
much distorted or exaggerated. There was talk of 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 43 

levies to be made upon the different towns of the 
Bay for men and arms, reports of warlike prepara- 
tions at Boston, stories, too vague and contradictory 
to be relied upon, of the continued harrying of Endi- 
cott’s band to the south. It was generally thought 
that this swift retaliation for Oldham’s murder would 
so intimidate the Narragansetts as effectually to pre- 
vent any repetition of the outrage and bring about 
the delayed tribute. Some of the more timid or 
clearer sighted, in the outlying plantations, sent their 
wives and families to a neighbouring blockhouse, or 
looked well to their own defences. But for the most 
part the settlers went about their business in con- 
temptuous disregard of the thickening war rumours. 
What should the men who had fought to victory in 
every known land and on every sea, who had con- 
quered the fierce Spaniard and the redoubtable 
Dutch, fear from a handful of mere savages, whose 
weapons could scarce pierce a wadded cotton doublet, 
and which would be defied by English armour } 
<‘Thou art a good lad, Thomas,” said Mistress 
Bradstreet, one day, as the boy came in from his 
work to get a drink of buttermilk. My honoured 
father hath said, ‘The lad is of the right mettle; an 
I had him in my troop, he would right speedily show 
of what stuff he is made ! ’ ” 


144 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Here I have no chance to prove myself a man," 
answered the boy, flushing at praise from such a 
source, but speaking not without an underlying bit- 
terness, as he glanced at his hands — gentleman’s 
hands they were till of late, though brown and 
toughened by .an out-of-door life ; now they were 
soiled and hardened, the palms were calloused, and 
the nails broken by the hateful “ hackling," — that, 
happily, was the last stage in the preparation of the 
flax before it should be turned over to the women 
folk and the wheel. 

‘‘Give over thy dreams, dear boy," said Mistress 
Anne, gently. “ Dreams are not of the stuff of which 
true manhood is made." 

“Are dreams always ill. Mistress Anne.?" ques- 
tioned the boy, earnestly, thinking of that wonderful 
hour when he and the Boy Governor sat side by side, 
and he had listened to that dream of a New Atlantis. 

“ I meant not that — or, at least, that I would 
wholly condemn them," answered Mistress Anne. 
“ I think, indeed, dreams may be the pattern on 
which our lives are to be fashioned. But our lives 
themselves must be made of stouter stuff — stuff 
that will stand the wear and tear of time — and 
eternity," she added, gravely. 

Shortly after, one intensely hot afternoon, Thomas 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 45 

was walking up and down with the baby in a shaded 
place before the house, where a breath of air seemed 
stirring. It was quite in vain, however, that the boy 
whistled and chirruped and kicked his heels against 
the tree to divert his little charge ; all the expe- 
dients that he vaguely remembered to have seen 
mothers use to quiet babies seemed only to enrage 
young Simon Bradstreet the more. 

“What art thou doing to that poor babe?” cried 
an indignant voice, and, to his amazement. Faith 
Hutchinson stood before him. 


CHAPTER X. 


It was indeed Faith, heated and dusty, looking 
scarce able to drag one foot after another, but not 
so exhausted from her journey as to speak with les- 
sened spirit, or act with diminished energy ; the 
next moment the baby was in her arms, and she was 
walking up and down, interspersing a little crooning 
lullaby with indignant ejaculations flung at Thomas. 

** Shaking the poor child, kicking the tree to vent 
thy spleen — thou’rt a rough, unmannerly boy. What 
business hast thou with a baby, I would know ? 
Attend to thine own affairs. Master Thomas, and 
leave babies to thy betters. It ill beseems a boy to 
wish to do all that he sees his sisters about,” added 
the girl, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. 
“ There, there, sweetheart ! ” The last words, spoken 
in a surprising change of tone, were addressed to the 
now pacified baby, whom she presently laid in his 
cradle. Then she turned to Thomas, who had been 
sulkily regarding these operations, divided between 
an inclination to take himself from the scene of his 
146 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 47 

humiliation, and curiosity as to what could have 
brought Faith such a distance from home. 

So thou art still playing knight,” said the girl. 

Hast vanquished all the squaws, that I find thee in 
mortal combat with a two months’ baby .? ” 

‘‘Take heed thy waspish tongue brings thee not 
to the ducking-stool,” returned Thomas, sulkily. 
“ Never did I know a maid so fond of her own way, 
— nor of voicing it.” 

“Then thou hast known little of pleasing com- 
pany,” retorted Faith; “for my part, I would as 
soon have a stick or stone for a companion as one 
who can do no more than repeat what hath just 
been spoken. Thou mightst as well sit on Cotton’s 
Hill and talk with the echo from the dome.” As 
she spoke, she was emptying her heavy shoes of an 
accumulation of sandy gravel. “ I fear me I should 
have made but a poor pilgrim to Canterbury,” she said. 
“ I could ne’er have walked thither with pebbles in 
my shoes, an St. Thomas’s shrine were for ever 
unvisited. Saint — Thomas ! ” she repeated, reflec- 
tively. “The words have an odd sound, mated. 
But I have not come all the way from Boston to 
hold speech with thee,” she added, and turned, 
apparently forgetful of the presence of the boy, as, 
attracted by the sound of voices. Mistress Bradstreet 


148 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

appeared in the doorway. She came swiftly forward 
with welcoming word and look, and drew Faith within 
the house. 

“ Indeed, it is not for nothing that I am come to 
thee, dear Mistress Bradstreet, nor yet out of child- 
ish spleen,” said the girl, breaking off in the midst of 
a passionate, incoherent outburst of weariness and 
despair, and burying her head in the older woman’s 
lap. 

“ I cannot sense what thou hast been saying,” said 
Mistress Anne, stroking the girl’s hair as she spoke. 
“ Boston — thy mother — distracted — what hath thy 
mother to do with distracting Boston? Have the 
Indians risen ? ” she questioned, in alarm. 

‘*No word is spoken of the Indians,” answered 
Faith, with an attempt at self-control ; ** none gives 
the least thought to the savages. I think, indeed, 
that did they howl at our very doors, Boston folk 
would only ask did they come under a Covenant of 
Grace or a Covenant of Works, and dispute the point 
till the tomahawk was at their scalps.” 

“What mean those strange words?” queried Mis- 
tress Anne, thoroughly mystified, and either because 
Faith had reached the limits of endurance, or some 
whimsical chord in her nature was touched by her 
own utterance, she fell to laughing and crying to- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 49 

gether, as though she would never stop. Mistress 
Bradstreet spake no more, but stroked the girl’s hair, 
and as though the gentle touch held in it something of 
strength and comfort, by degrees Faith’s sobs grew 
quieter, and were at length stilled. 

*‘Try to tell me, dear child, what it is all about,” 
said Mistress Anne. 

“ I think, indeed, matters could scarce have been 
worse had the Indians really descended upon the 
town,” began the girl; ‘‘or that savages, however 
cruel, could show more hatred toward us than Boston 
folk are showing toward one another. I have told 
thee how all the women in town were soon coming to 
my mother’s meetings ; presently, there was another 
weekly meeting, at our house, for both men and 
women ; it seemed as though nothing all over Boston 
was talked about but what my mother said, and who 
was ‘ called ’ and who not. It was thought at first 
to be a great awakening, and there was rejoicing that 
so many souls were being led to Christ.” 

“Did thy mother teach aught contrary to the 
Church of which she is a sister ” questioned Mistress 
Anne, gravely. 

“It passeth my understanding as to what she 
taught,” answered the girl, in bewildered tones ; 
“ what I do know is, that our home is no more what 


150 A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 

it was. I cannot say how the change was wrought, 
nor can I put my hand on the day or hour it began, 
but- all is as different as though some evil spell were 
laid upon us,” she added, with a shudder. 

Mistress Anne waited for farther disclosures in a 
silence so full of sympathy that words would have 
lessened its gentle influence. “ I strive to do my 
best, but the children will not mind me, because they 
say I am under a Covenant of Works,” resumed 
Faith, in the shrinking tone in which one speaks 
of a shameful thing. ‘‘ Indeed, I would as soon be 
under a Covenant of Grace as a Covenant of Works 
had I the least idea what either meant, or how one 
is to get into one or t’other. The little ones turn 
from me at every step ; they will not even speak to 
me, and when I come into the room, their talk ceases. 
I have done all manner of foolish things to try to 
please them, for, oh, it is a sore and bitter thing to 
look into the eyes of those you love, and who once 
loved you, and see nought therein but hatred. Nor 
is all this the worst. I — am — become so afraid — 
of — my mother,” Faith went on, in awestruck tones. 
** One is afraid of the tithing-man and the minister 
and of witches and Indians ; and very, very much 
afraid of God. But to be afraid of one’s mother ! 
I have been counting the years before I die. One 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I 5 1 

does not die often before she is an old woman, does 
she ? — and it will be so many, many years before I 
am forty ! So, thinking it all over, — though, in- 
deed, in these days I think of nought else, — I made 
up my mind that I could bear it no longer. 

*‘This morning, I arose very early, and making 
ready the oven, filled it as full as it would hold with 
bread and pies and pudding. I milked the cows and 
churned the butter and set the house in order. Fran- 
cis was from home, so I wrote him a letter and left it 
on the dresser ; none of the others would speak to 
me. I would have kissed the baby, but she, too, 
turned from me in the cradle. It was so good to 
hold your little one but now, and feel that he did 
not hate me ! I think it was the first time for many 
weeks that I could pray, when I felt there was some 
one who did not hate me ! ” 

*‘But thy father, thy brother Francis, — surely 
they are not possessed with this strange fancy, — 
if indeed thou speakest not out of some feverish 
fantasy brought on by the burning sun and that long 
walk from Boston ? ” murmured Mistress Bradstreet, 
anxiously ; but though the girl’s face was flushed 
with heat, her pulse beat in the tune of perfect 
health, and there was no fever heat in the touch 
of her hands. 


152 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Francis is ever at his books, and keeps much 
from the house, liking not to be fretted by the 
wrangling of the children, whom he says I should 
still. I think, indeed,” went on the girl, ‘‘ that could 
I have roamed with him and Thomas, as I once 
did, I could bear better the woful change. But — 
’tis passing strange — I care no more for the romps 
I used to love, except at times a great, sore longing 
comes over me for the hills and sea. Besides, the 
children needed me — though they scorned and hated 
me ; but the burden hath become too heavy for me 
to bear. Therefore have I come to thee, dear Mis- 
tress Bradstreet, out of the love I bore thee in the 
old days, under St. Botolph’s shadow, to beg that 
thou wilt let me stay with thee ; there was no one in 
all Boston to whom I could go, for all our friends are 
under a Covenant of Grace, and would not suffer me 
in the house. I will work for thee as did never bond- 
maid or slave, nor ever ask for wage. I will rise 
before dawn, and lie not down till midnight. Indeed, 
though I am young in years, I am strong, and could 
be of service to thee.” 

For many minutes no word was spoken. Mistress 
Anne’s voice broke the silence at last. 

“ Listen, dear child,” she said, in a voice too full 
of the sweetness and humility of her own gentle 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 53 

spirit for aught of censorioiisness or the savour of self- 
righteousness to lie within her words. “ Life seemeth 
to me like a garment, whereof the materials — some 
coarse, some fine, some scant, some bounteous — are 
given us to fashion. For each garment there is a 
pattern, to each its own, like none other. We may 
make it like the pattern, an we will ; but a wrong 
stitch here, a hasty cut of the shears there, an uncon- 
sidered pull elsewhere that strains the whole fabric, 
and though we may do our best to make good our 
error, and though the garment may present a fair 
seeming to the world, it is not what it should be, 
what it might have been had we fashioned it accord- 
ing to our pattern. And in our heart of hearts we 
know our failure, and One other knows it. 

“Nay, nay, I will say no more,” she added, as the 
girl was about to break again into eager speech, “ nor 
will I, now, listen to more. Thou art sore weary, 
and hath not touched food for many hours. Rest 
to-night, and on the morrow thou shalt decide 
whether to remain here or return to thy home. 
Only, Faith, in thy decision, take heed lest thou 
mar’st thy wedding-garment.” 

Whatever thoughts may have come to Faith 
Hutchinson in the watchful hours of the night may 
not be told, but on the morrow, ere she spake a 


154 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

word, it was evident that her decision had been 
made, and to Mistress Anne, at least, what that de- 
cision was. It was speedily arranged that she should 
return to Boston in the care of Thomas Savage, an 
arrangement at which the latter was mightily pleased, 
notwithstanding obtrusive thoughts of a reckoning 
with his guardian and deeper concern regarding a 
meeting with Master Vane. Not only was the pros- 
pect most welcome of a change from the monotony 
of the past weeks, but he was not without a secret 
hope that by this time past errors were forgiven and 
that he would be allowed to resume his place on the 
governor’s guard. Mistress Dudley, too, was not ill 
pleased at the opportunity of sending a hamper of 
good country provender to her husband, as the tavern 
where he was putting up, during his stay in Boston, 
could boast but indifferent fare. 

It was a very subdued Faith that mounted the 
pillion behind Thomas Savage. As for Thomas, 
with every mile that left Agawam behind, the morn- 
ing air, fresh from the sea, seemed to fill his lungs 
with an intoxicating sense of freedom, and he kept 
Gray Bess at her best speed. Under a sudden im- 
pulse, his shoes, well furnished with hobnails, gave a dig 
into the mare’s ribs ; unaccustomed to knightly spurs, 
she started forward just at the moment Faith’s hand 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I 5 5 

quitted its steadying hold upon the hamper to brush 
a stray lock of hair from her eyes. The hamper, 
already loosened from its fastenings by the rude jolt- 
ing, slid to the ground. Gray Bess gave a startled 
kick or two to free herself from the obstacle bump- 
ing against her hind hoofs, and broke into a run. 
At last, Thomas succeeded in checking her, and both 
riders dismounted and retraced their steps to where 
the hamper lay. Not one of the eggs had escaped 
the wreck, and the good things packed so carefully 
by Mistress Dudley were a dripping yellow mass, 
from which bits of egg-shell protruded in every direc- 
tion. Boy and girl looked at each other in dismay. 

“’Twas thy fault,” said Thomas. ^‘Had I not 
enough to do to manage Gray Bess ? ” 

** And how was I to know that thou wouldst all at 
once take it into thy head to stir up the mare ? Thou 
hadst like to break my neck as well as the eggs,” 
retorted the girl. 

Some further time was spent in wrangling as to 
which was to blame for the accident, when Thomas, 
glancing over his shoulder, perceived that Gray Bess 
was nowhere in sight. The mare was a staid and 
sober beast, and no possibility of her straying had 
entered the boy’s mind, when, in dismounting, he 
merely looped the bridle over a low-hanging branch. 


156 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Perhaps the intoxication of freedom was upon the 
mare as well as her rider, or she may have been still 
resentful of that rude thrust in her ribs. Certainly, 
she appeared to have developed unexpected powers 
of speed, and after running a mile or more, the boy 
slackened his pace, vexation merged into apprehen- 
sion. He was come within sight of scattered houses, 
and knew he must be nearing Salem. He paused to 
inquire of the first person he met, whether a gray 
mare had passed that way, without observing, in 
his preoccupation, that the man was labouring, also, 
under some untoward excitement. 

“ Art thou the owner of the beast } ” he demanded, 
and as Thomas, in some surprise at the heat of the 
tone, gave assent, his interlocutor went on, ‘‘Then 
thou wilt come with me to the nearest magistrate to 
answer for the corn that the wretched creature hath 
either eaten or trampled down, — my whole crop, — 
as fine a field of Indian com as thou wouidst find 
'twixt here and Boston, — ruined ! As for thy 
starved, miserable mare, she is in the pound, re- 
penting, already, over her stolen feast.” 

“ Let me go to her ! ” urged the boy, in alarm, 
thinking of the rate of speed to which he had urged 
Gray Bess on the journey. “Such a meal will kill 
her, after her ride ! ” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I 57 

‘‘Then her hide shall pay me for my corn!” 
asserted the man, surlily. “Give me the value of 
my good corn, and thou mayst go to the pound and 
settle with the poundmaster for thy jade as thou 
wilt.” 

“ But I have no money,” protested Thomas. “ I 
tell thee,” he added, as the man was evidently pre- 
pared to use force in carrying out his mandate, “I 
am the bearer of a letter from his home to Master 
Thomas Dudley, major-general of the Colonial forces, 
at present commanding in Boston.” 

Master Dudley’s name was too well known and 
held in too high esteem throughout the Colony for 
its mention not to command instant respect, and it 
was in an altered tone that his captor said : 

“ Let me see the letter — the seal will suffice. I 
doubt not that you can satisfy the poundmaster by 
the same token.” 

Thomas withdrew his hand from his doublet with 
an exclamation of dismay. In the selfsame moment, 
it flashed upon him that the letter with which he had 
been charged had, in the excitement and preoccupa- 
tion of the morning, been left upon the table where 
Mistress Dudley placed it, bidding him take heed to 
its prompt delivery. He recalled that directly after 
she had left the room to attend to the hamper. 


158 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

have not the letter by me,” he attempted to 
explain, “but I give thee my word — ” 

“Thy lies will not serve thee,” interrupted his 
captor, rudely. “ Nay, they will rather make thy case 
the worse. At any rate, thou shalt have the chance 
to see whether the magistrate will believe thy tale or 
not. As for me, I will have pay for my corn,” and 
turning a deaf ear to further protest, he laid a heavy 
hand on Thomas’s shoulder, and so haled him Salem- 
wards. 


CHAPTER XL 


They soon reached the market-place, the usual 
centre of the telling and hearing of news. To-day 
some matter of uncommon interest appeared to be 
afoot, judging both by the number of people present 
and the evident excitement under which they were 
labouring. Fragments of startling import fell on 
the ears of Thomas and his captor. 

*‘The Indians are on the war-path,” replied the 
man to whom the latter addressed himself. “ Mas- 
ter Endicott hath but now returned,” he went on, 
** bringing sorry tidings of the state of affairs to the 
south. It would appear that his expedition not only 
failed to intimidate, but hath incensed. Small par- 
ties of the Narragansetts are already on the war- 
path, and 'tis said that the concerted action of the 
tribe will soon follow, — if indeed it hath not already 
befallen.” 

Master Endicott is ever the stirrer up of strife,” 
said another bystander, dourly. “Was it not he 
who nearly brought us into trouble with the king 
159 


l 60 A FURITAI\r KNIGHT ERRANT 

because of cutting the cross out of the ensign ? 
What action the worshipful magistrates will take in 
this matter hath not yet appeared, but I greatly fear 
that Master Endicott hath kindled a fire that will 
not soon be put out.” 

“ Were many killed ? ” asked Thomas’s captor. 

“ Of those that set out, scarce the half hath re- 
turned,” was the startling reply. *^The remainder 
barely escaped with their lives, every step of the 
homeward way being harried by Indian arrows ; 
many fell in an ambush in a swamp, where flight 
was well-nigh impossible.” 

“ Hast heard whether Edward Nourse, my sister’s 
son, is safe ? ” questioned the man who held Thomas. 

** I know not with certitude, yet methinks his was 
one of the names I heard spoken with sorrow,” hesi- 
tated the man. ** Master Endicott is now closeted 
with the other magistrates, and his men have gone 
to their own homes. Soon, they say, will be read 
the list of killed or — missing,” — there was a rueful 
pause before the last word, as it brought to mind the 
fate of those who had fallen alive into the hands of 
such a foe. There they come!” he exclaimed, 
abruptly. 

There was a sudden surge toward the edge of the 
market-place, where stood the town house, on the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT l6l 

gallery of which Master Endicott had now appeared, 
holding a paper in his hand. During the preceding 
colloquy, Thomas’s captor had unconsciously loosened 
his grip, and in the impetuous forward movement of 
the crowd, his hand was wrenched from the boy’s 
shoulder. Thomas lost no time in taking advantage 
of this circumstance, and almost before his captor 
was aware of his escape, he had wriggled and twisted 
his lithe body free of the crowd. The remainder of 
the town was almost deserted, and, taking to his 
heels, with the comfortable assurance that he could 
outrun anybody in the Colony, he had soon put a con- 
siderable distance between himself and Salem. Then 
flinging himself beneath a tree, he considered the 
situation. 

Relief at his escape was followed by dismay at 
the thought of Faith. Of real danger to her there 
was scarce probability, and she had by this time, 
no doubt, reached Salem. His own return thither, 
under existing circumstances, would not only fail of 
being any benefit to her, but would inevitably be 
fraught with unpleasant consequences to himself. 
Master Endicott had shown himself, on divers occa- 
sions, as was well known throughout the Colony, to 
be a man of precipitate action and great severity of 
judgment, and in the probable event of his being the 


i 62 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


magistrate before whom Thomas was brought, it was 
quite possible that his story would be discredited, 
and he be forced to await investigation in jail. Com- 
munication with either Boston or Agawam was a 
matter of time at the best, and might be indefinitely 
delayed if these reports of the Indian uprising were 
true. To be sure, to desert a lady placed in one’s 
care was not strictly according to the rules of 
chivalry ; but this discomforting reflection was 
parried by the thought that Faith had long ago 
scornfully refused to be the lady of his devoirs. 
Not a little vexation, too, mingled in his thoughts of 
his late companion as he recalled her sharp words 
over the loss of the hamper. But the strongest 
factor of all in his deliberations was the fact that did 
he keep on his present road, he would be the bearer 
of the tidings that war was up with the savage hordes 
of Southern Massachusetts. The herald of such 
momentous news could hardly fail of consideration. 
Besides, at a time when fighting men would be sorely 
needed, it was scarcely probable that he would be 
sent back to the farm, or set at his books again. 
There was even hope that he might be reinstated 
on the governor’s guard. With the last thought, 
hesitation was flung to the winds, and he sprang to 
his feet, with his face set toward Boston. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 163 

Having run the greater part of the intervening 
distance, it was scarce midaftemoon when he reached 
the next hamlet on the road, — Saugus, — and made 
his way to the tavern. The buoyant sense of re- 
turning freedom had now so far restored his self- 
confidence that in his boldest manner he ordered that 
the best horse in the stable be instantly brought 
him. 

“ I have but one horse, and the charge of the 
* Bag-o’-Nails ’ is fourpence an hour,” answered the 
landlord, hesitatingly. 

“Thy charge is reasonable,” returned Thomas, 
loftily, and called for a pot of beer, whilst the 
animal should be saddled. The landlord presently 
reappeared, leading a fine, well-groomed horse. 

“ I doubt not your means to pay, young sir,” he 
said ; “ but should my horse come to grief, and I 
could not get his value, ’twould be a sad loss to me, 
who am dependent on my labour for my bread, and 
have a family to support.” 

“ I will see to it that thou art paid to the last 
farthing,” returned Thomas, loftily, handing the man 
the empty beer noggin. 

“ Young blood is sometimes forgetful, sir,” returned 
the man, respectfully, but with the manner of one 
not to be cajoled or browbeaten. 


64 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


“ I am on business relating to his Worship, the 
governor,” said Thomas, haughtily. 

The landlord was plainly nonplussed. Despite 
the shabby and dust-covered clothes, the labour- 
stained hands, there was that about the boy that 
bespoke, unmistakably, the gentleman. 

“ Have you aught about you to show the truth of 
your words ” he asked, civilly. “ I mean no dis- 
respect, sir, but many a rascal is about who would 
not hesitate of any pretext to rob an honest man.” 

‘‘I — I have nothing,” began Thomas, with renewed 
dismay at the recollection of his carelessness regard- 
ing the letter. 

The landlord’s face darkened. The hand that 
held the horse’s bridle closed in a firmer grip. 

“Thou hast not yet paid for thy pot of beer,” he 
said, significantly, as his would-be customer stood 
cudgelling his brains for some way out of this new 
and annoying dilemma. 

Thomas flushed angrily at the change of address. 

“ ThoUy fellow ! ” he repeated, angrily. “Is that 
the way to speak to thy betters } ” 

“An thou wouldst cheat me out of a ha’penny for 
a pot of beer, thou wouldst let me whistle for four- 
pence for the horse — ay, and ’tis likely, for the 
horse, as well,” returned the man. “As for thou 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 65 

being my better,” — he laid deliberate emphasis on 
the offensive pronoun, — “ my betters are not wont 
to go afoot and run up a reckoning for which they 
cannot pay.” 

Canst thou not see, fellow, that I am a gentle- 
man’s son ? ” urged Thomas, desperately. 

But as though the last words had evoked some 
evil spell, the landlord’s face darkened, and he an- 
swered in a tone that evidenced the futility of 
further urging. 

‘ Gentleman’s son,’ forsooth ! ’Tis not so long 
ago that I was landlord of the ‘ Bag-o’-Nails,’ in 
Cheapside, and a horde of young ruffians came on a 
Sabbath day, bidding me, as though they were lords 
of the land, to set forth the best in my house ; know- 
ing well that the entire piratical crew had not a 
groat amongst them, I would not heed their orders, 
whereon the rascals fell on me with cudgels, and 
beat me till I was near dead, and a wonder it was 
that I had a whole bone left in my body. Then they 
brake everything in the house, — furniture, pewter, 
the very shutters, — and opening the bung-hole of 
every cask in the cellar, after they had drank their 
fill themselves, let all my good sack and ale run to 
waste ! ” groaned the man, in piteous recollection. 
‘‘When I brought complaint to the magistrates, the 


1 66 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

rapscallions got off scot-free, because, forsooth, they 
were ‘ gentlemen’s sons ! ’ Were it not for them, — 
for I had not the money to restore things at home, 

— I should not now be in this accursed country, 
where the mosquitoes are like dragons and the sky is 
enough to blind one. No, no, — no 'gentlemen’s 
sons ’ for me ! ” 

There was no other tavern between Saugus and 
Charlestown, and should the tidings of the Indian 
uprising reach Boston by another, — and doubtless a 
speedy messenger would be despatched from Salem, 

— the honour of bringing the warning would be lost, 
and with it, the fond hope of reinstatement on the 
governor’s guard. Bridle in hand, the landlord turned 
toward the stable. 

There was a cry from within the house. " The 
baby, — the kettle ! ” mingled with a child’s agonised 
screams. The man let go his hold of the horse and 
dashed into the house. In an instant, Thomas was 
in the saddle, clattering down the road at full speed. 
The inn was on the edge of the village, so the way 
was clear before him, and the horse kept nobly up to 
the pace at which his rider urged him. Enjoyment 
of the swift movement mingled with exhilaration at 
the thought of having got the better of the landlord, 
and that of good times ahead. As he dug his nailed 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 6 / 

shoes into the horse’s side, the boy’s thoughts swept 
beyond the immediate future to a day when, heralded 
by the glory he had won in the New World, he 
should return to Sempringham. In imagination, 
unconsciously slackening the reins the while, he saw 
the great avenue that led to the castle thronged with 
villagers and peasants, who in hushed voices spake 
the name of the hero of the hour. Within the castle, 
awaited him a vast assemblage of another sort. The 
Earl of Lincoln advanced to meet him, and, throwing 
a golden chain about his neck, led him to the dais at 
the end of the hall, where sate the Countess of 
Lincoln. With her was Lady Emilia, eager to behold 
the returning hero, yet blushing to show her eager- 
ness. He cast at her feet the crown and jewels of 
the Indian king, with which he was laden, and kneel- 
ing before her said, Lady, ’twas for thee I con- 
quered ! ” 

The horse stumbled, and before Thomas could pull 
him up, had flung his rider headlong to the ground ; 
there the boy lay for some minutes, stunned by the 
shock, but as he soon found, without serious injury. 
Unhappily, the horse had not escaped so lightly, as 
a futile struggle to rise, a painful neigh, too plainly 
indicated. With a heavy heart Thomas found that 
the animal’s foreleg was broken. A hole in the 


1 68 A FURITAIV KNIGHT ERRANT 

road revealed but too plainly the cause of the mis- 
hap. Sorry luck, reflected the boy, ruefully, to lose 
two horses in one day, and neither by any fault of 
his own ! There was nothing to do but to resume 
his journey afoot, though he could now scarcely hope 
to outdistance the messenger from Salem. He had 
scarce taken a half-score steps when a whinny 
brought him back to the horse’s side ; eyes almost 
human in their entreaty implored the boy to be put 
out of agony. The nearest house was just visible on 
the road behind ; to return thither, borrow a match- 
lock, despatch the horse, and return the firearm, 
meant not only appreciable delay, but the possibility 
of being overtaken by some one whom the irate 
landlord had sent upon his track. Again and once 
again, Thomas set his face Bostonwards, and again 
compassion for the suffering creature drew him back. 
At last, pity got the better of all other considerations, 
and he retraced his steps. The man of the house 
proved good-natured, and, possibly influenced by his 
women folk, to whom the lad’s merciful intent evi- 
dently appealed, he not only readily consented to lend 
the matchlock, but offered to expedite the boy’s jour- 
ney by returning with him to the place where the horse 
lay. The animal was soon despatched, and dragging 
their joint burden to the side of the road, Thomas 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 69 

was about to continue his journey, when the man de- 
tained him, pointing to a brand upon the horse’s 
flank that had just come into view. 

‘‘ How came you by this horse ? ” he questioned, 
gravely. The landlord of the Saugus tavern is my 
brother by marriage.” 

By what right dost thou ask .? ” answered Thomas, 
goaded nearly to frenzy by the continued obstacles 
that an unkind fate was casting in his way. “ I care 
not who thy kinsfolk be, nor how they get their liv- 
ing. I take it a gentleman hath a right to hire a 
horse at an inn without being questioned thereon by 
every ploughman he meets ! ” 

Not so fast, young sir,” returned his interlocutor, 
on whom the lad’s display of temper had evidently an 
ill effect. “ A civil question deserves a civil answer, 
and I am thinking that he who forgets such courtesy 
shows himself scarce the equal of the ploughman.” 

As thou seest, the horse belonged to the landlord 
of the Saugus tavern,” replied Thomas, flushing at 
the not undeserved rebuke, and from so humble a 
source. 

<‘It may be even as you say,” said the man. “I 
ask but for proof. An my brother-in-law has let you 
have the horse by agreement, I have no more to say ; 
he and you can settle any further matter between 


I/O A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

you. You have but to answer ‘yea ’ and the road is 
open before you.” He stood aside as earnest of his 
speech. 

It was such a little word, so easily spoken. It 
would purchase so much at so slight a cost ! But 
even as he opened his lips to speak, there came to 
him the words of one of the knightly souls he 
loved : 

“ Thou shalt tell no untruth, no, not in trifles ; for 
there cannot be a greater reproach to a gentleman 
than to be accounted a liar,” and his lips refused the 
little word, so hardly spoken, and which would have 
cost so infinitely much ! 

Ah, if at that moment he had been armed with the 
governor’s signet-ring ! 

“ I am the bearer of tidings of urgent importance 
to his Worship, the governor, in whose personal ser- 
vice I am,” he said, firmly. “I have the right to 
say : ‘ In the name of the king / ’ ” 

Perhaps the potent words, in their mere utterance, 
aided by the look of fearless truth on the boy’s face, 
might have won their way, but at that moment a 
rider, unobserved by both in their preoccupation, 
swept down upon them with the warning cry : 

“ In the name of the king ! ” 

“I like not the looks of things,” said Thomas’s 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


171 


companion, decidedly. “ Return with me to the house, 
whilst I send a message to my brother-in-law. If all 
is as you say, I will ask your pardon for detaining 
you, and will do what I can to forward you on your 
road to Boston.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

Unavailing efforts to convince his captor — who, 
indeed, seemed a man of fair and open mind — that 
his release would be the better part, occupied Thomas 
on their return to the house. There was nothing of 
which to complain in his subsequent treatment, it 
being that of guest rather than prisoner. He sate at 
board with his captor and his family, — consisting of 
wife and son and a niece, the last a pretty, demure- 
looking girl called Eunice, who was, apparently, less 
inclined to regard him with favour than the others, 
for whenever Thomas glanced her way she was look- 
ing persistently in another direction. As his hunger 
became satisfied, the lad’s spirits rose, and he talked 
entertainingly of his captivity amongst the Indians, 
and of the goings-on in Boston for the past twelve- 
month, little of which had reached the remote 
farmhouse. He was showered with questions, too, 
regarding the Boy Governor, whom his hosts had 
never seen, and concerning whom they entertained 
the most intense curiosity. To speak of his master 


172 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 73 

was so great a pleasure that, quite forgetful of his 
own precarious situation, Thomas described Master 
Vane in the most glowing terms, dwelling on the 
universal love in which he was held. But at the last 
words the host shook his head. 

‘‘ ‘ Beware when all men speak well of you,’ ” he 
said, gravely. “ It betokens no good, either, to my 
thinking, that all Boston is running after this woman 
preacher — I cannot bring her name to mind,” he 
added. “For mine own part, I would bid her re- 
member the words of St. Paul, that women should 
not be heard in the churches.” 

“ Though we are at so great a distance from town, 
we learn something of what is going on from the 
travellers who stop at my sister’s inn,” said the good 
woman of the house, with not a little pride in their 
cosmopolitanism. “ Boston is said to swarm like an 
angry ant hill because of this woman’s teaching. It 
is become common for men — ay, and women, too — 
to get up in the meeting-house and tell the minister 
to his face that he is all wrong, and belike leave the 
church. Even in the highest places are they at log- 
gerheads ; the governor is set against the deputy 
governor. Master Cotton against Master Wilson.” 

“ We are not yet come to the end of the matter, 
either,” said her husband, gravely. “They say that 


174 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


in Boston it is as common to distinguish between 
those who are under a Covenant of Grace and those 
under a Covenant of Works, as it is in other coun- 
tries betwixt Papists and Protestants. One may well 
tremble at such words, when he recalls the bloody 
doings in the streets of Antwerp.” 

<‘Thou art ever ready to think that the worst will 
befall,” said Goodwife Fox, reproachfully. An souls 
are being drawn to Christ, why should men murmur 
at the instrument of His choice ? ” 

‘^Because when the old serpent can not prevail 
to ruinate and destroy the Kingdom of Christ from 
without, mayhap he seeks so to do by more secret 
and subtle means — by sowing the seeds of conten- 
tion and bitter enmity amongst the professors and 
seeming reformers themselves,” answered the host, 
gravely. 

The loft over the living-room was indicated to 
Thomas as his sleeping-place ; as he mounted the 
ladder leading above, he heard Goodwife Fox say to 
her niece : 

“’Twould be passing strange that so comely a lad, 
and of such pleasing parts, should be a thief,” — but 
Eunice did not, apparently, take enough interest in 
the matter to reply, for, instead, she reminded her 
aunt of a certain pattern of a bedquilt that she had 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I 75 

promised, the previous Sabbath, to send to her sister 
at the inn. Oliver entered the room with two foam- 
ing pails of milk. 

“ Do not stand there staring as though thou wert 
like never to see me again,” said the girl, pettishly ; 
^‘go finish thy chores, and I will presently bring the 
pails to the barn.” 

Oliver, crestfallen, moved slowly away, muttering 
something to the effect that she was not in such a 
hurry to be rid of the strange lad. 

“ That is neither here nor there,” retorted Eunice. 
“ An thou goest not, I will have nought more to say 
to thee,” she added, with a glance over her shoulder 
at Goodwife Fox, still busy in unavailing search for 
her pattern. 

Thomas’s first act was to examine his quarters for 
the night ; there was no window in the loft, and no 
other mode of egress than that by which he had en- 
tered ; the ladder had been immediately removed, 
although, had it remained, the situation would scarce 
have been altered thereby, as the family slept in the 
room below. He heard, soon, the bed let down. As 
he recalled the vengeful feelings of the landlord 
toward ‘^gentlemen’s sons,” his heart sank within 
him and the image of the stocks arose with fearful 
distinctness before his mental vision. He thought of 


1/6 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

the culprits he had seen thus exposed in Boston 
market-place, the target of the rude wit of the 
passers-by, and pelted with all manner of offensive 
missiles by the coarser crowd. Though the stocks 
was a penalty to which a gentleman was rarely sub- 
jected, cases were on record when such punishment 
had been meted out to one of the quality. It might 
even be that a more severe penalty would be visited 
upon him ; to have one’s nose slit or his forehead 
branded with a « T ” was a not infrequent punish- 
ment of theft. Not even when he lay bound in 
the Narragansett lodge had Thomas known such a 
tremor of apprehension as that which overcame him 
in his present captivity. 

He had intended keeping awake through the night 
in vague hope that some chance of escape might offer 
with the darkness, but after flinging himself on the 
bed, scarce a minute seemed to have elapsed before 
he was aroused by a stir in the room below and, open- 
ing his drowsy eyes, he perceived daylight stealing 
through the chinks of the walls. Directly, the lad- 
der was placed against the opening, and he heard his 
host’s voice bidding him descend. Still struggling 
with sleep, Thomas stood before the assembled fam- 
ily. The sight of Oliver, evidently just returned 
from a morning ride, cleared his mind to the con- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 77 

sciousness of his situation. To his utter bewilder- 
ment, Goodman Fox, in tones of the utmost deference, 
said : 

'‘I crave your pardon, sir, for my overhasty and 
most mistaken action. OUver hath brought word 
from my brother-m-law that he let you have the 
horse at the usual charge, being well assured that 
you were what you represented yourself to be, a 
young gentleman in the personal service of his 
Worship the governor, and advising me to further 
you on your journey by all the means in my power.” 

Perhaps luckily for him, amazement at this unex- 
pected turn of affairs held Thomas’s speech, or some 
unguarded exclamation might have betrayed him. 
His host, evidently interpreting the boy’s silence as 
token of offence, renewed his apologies, concluding 
with the hope that Master Savage would do him the 
honour of remaining to breakfast. 

But Thomas wisely preferred to resume his journey 
fasting rather than run any further risk of detention. 
Assuming a haughty air, he declared that he had 
already been delayed too long, and that it behoved 
him to set forth at once upon his road. Taking a 
courteous farewell of his hostess, — who had not neg- 
lected to give her husband a triumphant I told thee 
so ! ” — the lad was soon on his way, at as rapid a 


178 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

pace as he felt to be consistent with appearances, till 
he reached a dip in the road that hid him from 
watchful eyes ; here he paused an instant to tighten 
his belt, preparatory to setting out on a run, when he 
heard his own name softly called ; directly a girl’s 
figure emerged from the thicket by the side of the 
road. It was Eunice. 

“ I hurried across the fields whilst thou and uncle 
were talking,” she said. “ ’Twere best not to go by 
the road. Come this way.” As she spoke, she 
seized Thomas’s hand, and the boy, uncomprehend- 
ing, but readily acquiescent, kept pace with his guide, 
as she led the way through a brier-set field to the 
tangled underbrush that fringed the forest hard by. 

“There is the old Indian trail,” she said, indi- 
cating an almost obliterated wood path. “’Tis a 
longer route than by the road, but they will not 
think to look for thee here. Here is food for thy 
journey,” she added, thrusting a generous parcel into 
the boy’s hand. 

“’Twas thou who saved me.?” cried Thomas, 
eagerly. 

“I told Oliver that I would never speak to him 
again an he brought not back the tale — word for 
word as thou hadst spoken it. I made him say 
it over after me at the barn, till he was letter perfect. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 79 

I think, indeed,” went on the girl, gravely, “ that one 
with a face like thine should speak truth ; but be 
that as it may, ’twould be a sore pity that thou 
shouldst go through life a sight for the crows to 
caw at.” 

‘‘ But thy cousin, Oliver, — I shouldst be a coward 
an I let him bear the blame. His father will learn, 
ere long, that he spake falsely, — or at least that he 
deceived them in the matter of bearing the true tale 
from the landlord,” rejoined Thomas. 

“At all events my cousin’s nose is safe,” answered 
the girl. “ His father or uncle will scarce hale him 
before the magistrate because of speaking true word 
in false guise. The reason that none hath yet fol- 
lowed thee is that the baby was near scalt to death 
by the breaking of the lug-pole and upsetting of the 
kettle ; mine uncle of the tavern hath since thought 
of nought but the child. But depend upon it, as 
soon as he can set about it — and ’twill be ere long 
— the constable will be at thy heels.” 

“But Oliver will not escape a flogging,” said 
Thomas, earnestly. 

“If, by taking a few blows, he cannot save a poor 
fellow from lifelong misery,” returned Eunice, seri- 
ously, “ why, Oliver is not the lad I take him to be, 
and he may look elsewhere for a sweetheart.” 


i8o 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


But thou ? ” protested Thomas. Think’st thou 
I would make a shield of a maid’s apron } It 
may fare hardly with thee, as well as with thy 
cousin.” 

“ Think’st thou so ” returned Eunice, smiling 
saucily. “At heart, mine aunt will be mightily 
relieved over thy escape, for she liked thy face and 
speech right well ; though she may scold me some- 
what when the truth is known, and — well — it may 
be I shall get a box on the ear for a froward minx, 
but I have nought of any account to fear. Having 
a snug little dowry of mine own, both mine uncle and 
aunt would be well pleased to see me wed Oliver. 
And I told Oliver, an he did this thing for me, — 
for Oliver is not a lad who lies for his own pleasure, 
— that the minister might cry the bans next Sabbath 
day, — as my cousin hath been teasing me to have 
him do for a twelvemonth past and more. My hand 
for thy nose is a fair exchange. Master Savage,” she 
added, smiling ; “ so give thyself no further concern 
for either Oliver or myself.” 

“ How can I, being, as I truly said, a gentleman’s 
son, — a right worthy, gallant gentleman, — hope 
that mine own son — an I have one — could make 
the same boast, if I take this boon of thee ? ” said 
Thomas, with a gravity that now and again gave hint 


A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT l8l 

of another nature that lay beneath the untutored 
impulses and crude ambitions that dominated the 
present. 

He took a few backward steps, but Eunice caught 
him by the arm. He did not know how bravely 
handsome he looked in his earnest protest, as he 
stood, cap in hand, the wind blowing his curls 
about his face, that, brown with the summer’s ex- 
posure, set in relief his bright eyes and white 
teeth. 

*‘Thou must not,” cried Eunice. “Thou knowest 
not mine uncle of the tavern. The mere mention 
of ‘gentlemen’s sons’ puts him in a blind rage. 
And now that he holds thee, as one of that ‘ cursed 
breed,’ as he terms them, to blame for the breaking 
of the lug-pole, — as though, forsooth, it would not 
have burnt through as well hadst thou been a churl’s 
son, — believe me, he will spare no pains to lay hands 
on thee ; perchance he will not wait for the hangman 
to sharpen his knife. Go — if not for thine own 
sake, for thy sweetheart’s,” she added, desperately, 
as Thomas showed no signs of yielding. “ One 
with a face like thine hath a sweetheart } ” she 
queried. 

“Truly, yes,” answered Thomas, trying to think 
of Lady Emilia, but finding instead his thoughts 


i 82 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


reverting to Faith Hutchinson, as he had last seen 
her in the Salem woods. 

“Then for her sake, go,” urged Eunice. “Tell 
her that another girl, out of her own happiness, sends 
you back to her, — for a sorry thing it would be, 
indeed, to kiss a face made frightful by the hang- 
man’s knife.” 

“ Then take this, I pray thee, as a wedding token 
from her,” said Thomas, holding out Faith’s gold 
beads. “ So she would bid me do, an she were here, 
with her own dear love to thee and Oliver,” he added, 
as Eunice hesitated to take the gift, though her eyes 
rested longingly on the glistening circlet. But to her 
protest, Thomas made answer : 

“ ’Tis little enough for the danger thou hast run, 
though all too much, I fear me, for the worth of 
that which thou hast saved. For never would I 
have outlived such shame as that which thou hast 
snatched me from ! ” 

“ Then will I take it, with my dear thanks to thee 
and thy sweetheart, and will treasure it to wear upon 
my wedding day,” said Eunice, dropping a curtsey. 
“ And when I come to Boston, as I think to do when 
Oliver goes thither for the first time to vote at the 
next general election,” interpolated the girl, proudly, 
“ then will I seek out thy sweetheart and thank her 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 183 

for her gift. Might I make bold to ask her name 
Faith — Faith Hutchinson > ” she repeated. “ I know 
right well that she must be good and fair and of 
gracious speech, or she could not have won the love 
of such as thou,” she added, gravely. 

In the courtly speech to which he had been bred, 
and which would ever cling to him, though Castle 
and Castle folk were far away, Thomas made answer ; 

“She is, indeed, all that thou sayest — and more. 
And to be held worthy of her love is praise enough, 
though undeserved ” — for in what other phrase 
should one speak of the lady of his heart } 

Eunice set out in the direction of home and 
Thomas struck into the forest. He soon found that 
it was by no means easy to keep to the path, that 
had not been used to any appreciable extent since 
the highroad was laid out. The scars on the tree 
trunks, by which the settler’s broad axe had aided to 
mark the trail, were in many places obliterated ; and 
more than once, Thomas must retrace his steps on 
finding that he had merely been following some mis- 
leading opening amongst the trees. At length, he 
adopted the method of hanging his cap upon a low 
branch of a blazed tree, and from this point finding 
the next blaze, to which in turn he transferred the 
cap. But this process, while doubtless the best under 


I 84 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

the circumstances, consumed time, so that dusk was 
fast deepening into darkness when he reached Charles- 
town. The ferry landed him in Boston, and he made 
the best of his way to the tavern. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Captain Dudley had been at the house of his 
Worship the governor since early afternoon, said the 
landlord. Thomas would have asked permission to 
await his guardian’s return in the tap-room, but 
worthy Goodman Coles insisted upon showing the 
lad to a room and good bed. Tired with his long 
journey, Thomas was aware of nothing more till 
aroused by the sunlight pouring into the room. 
Descending, he found, to his surprise, that Captain 
Dudley had not yet returned. 

After a hasty breakfast, he left the tavern, and 
hurried to the house that, ever since his arrival in 
Boston, he had called home. The door was wide 
open and some one was stirring in the kitchen. To 
his surprise, it was Faith. 

‘‘ How earnest thou here ? ” he queried. Didst 
get Gray Bess he added, eagerly. 

‘‘Gray Bess was dead with the corn with which 
she had filled herself,” answered Faith. “The man 
whose crop she had destroyed was wild with rage, as 
185 


I 86 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

he thought his loss would have been made good by 
the value of the mare, after thou hadst escaped him.” 

** Doth Captain Dudley know what chanced ? ” 
questioned Thomas, after a dismayed silence. 

‘‘He questioned me how we fared on the journey, 
when I took him Mistress Dudley’s letter,” returned 
Faith, in manifest distress. “ I found the letter on 
the table and placed it in my bodice,” she added. 

“ Was he much wroth } ” asked Thomas, trying to 
speak carelessly. 

Faith’s hesitation answered with only too much 
of emphasis. 

In the brief companionship of the journey from 
Agawam, Thomas had been so engrossed with the 
welcome change of scene that appeared about to 
offer that he had paid scant heed to his fellow 
traveller. Besides, Faith was too familiar an element 
in his daily life for her presence to arouse unwonted 
thoughts, at least consciously. He could not under- 
stand the diffidence that all at once seemed to have 
come over him in her presence. As he stood in the 
doorway, fiddling his cap, and watching Faith at her 
work, he noticed for the first time that a change had 
come over the girl, and although he was observant 
only of its outward guise, he was vaguely conscious 
that it represented as well something deeper and 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 8 / 

more essential. He saw that a womanly slenderness 
had replaced the childish roundness of form, a more 
sedate movement was in the stead of the quick 
motions that had characterised Faith of old. In her 
speech was no longer the irrepressible confidence 
that had been the cause of so many passages of 
arms between them. Always, after such contention, 
although it was Faith who held her ground and in 
the end never failed to have her own way, it was 
Faith, too, who was the first to make up. But now 
she kept about her work with a manifest indiffer- 
ence to his presence that was something new in 
Thomas’s experience of his little playmate ; and so 
disquieting, as well, was the novel sensation, that he 
knew not whether to be piqued or indifferent, to go 
or stay, to speak or be silent. When he spake, at 
last, the words seemed in despite of his own volition. 

I meant not. Faith,” he said, to have left thee 
alone on the Salem road, to fend for thyself ” — and 
would have spoken farther, but that the girl quickly 
took the word. 

‘‘ Thou needst not trouble thyself over so small a 
matter, — I walked back, — as I had gone — alone.” 

Where is Francis.^” asked Thomas, desperately, 
after another uncomfortable pause that Faith showed 
no signs of breaking. 


i88 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


He hath gone to Master Cotton for his lesson/* 
she returned. 

“ I must report myself to his Worship. Perchance 
I shall meet Francis on the way,” said Thomas, 
unwelcome reflections for the moment cast aside in 
his eagerness to see his friend again. 

Here is a letter for thee,” said Faith, taking the 
missive from the dresser. “It hath just arrived, or 
I would have brought it thee at Agawam,” she added, 
and again Thomas was conscious of something new 
— a sense of care-taking, a womanliness to which 
he could give no name, but which was none the less 
a part of the new Faith who had taken the place of 
his little playmate of old. He was half resentful 
of this usurper, whose ways recalled Faith’s ways, 
yet were not hers, who spoke in a voice that re- 
sembled Faith’s, yet with a difference ; whose form 
and features were those of his little comrade, and yet 
were not hers — except the eyes. The lovely, starry 
eyes were Faith’s own, not to be changed by time or 
circumstance. 

The letter bore a familiar armorial seal ; as Thomas 
ran along the path up Cotton’s Hill, he tore the mis- 
sive open, though with only half-hearted interest. But 
the first line chained his attention, and dropping on a 
boulder by the wayside, he read to the end. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ' ERRANT 1 89 

“ Good Thomas : — I have news for thee that will 
give thee joy. It is my betrothal to Lady Emilia. 
Of a truth, I had little thought in that direction till 
of late, though ’tis now some months since my father 
told me what were his wishes for me and for her. 
Though in all duty to mine honoured father, it 
needed not another pair of eyes to aid me in seeing 
that Lady Emilia is the sweetest lady in all England, 

— saving only my mother, — and that Lady Emilia 
will be such a Countess of Lincoln as never was and 
never will be again, except my mother. Lady Emilia 
says she hath never cared for any one but me, al- 
though I do recall, when thou wert at the Castle, 
that it sometimes appeared that she favoured thee 
rather than me. But maids are ever shy of letting 
their real preferences be known, and though she ever 
cared for thee, ’twas only as a brother. But what 
passeth wonder to me is that thou hadst no eyes for 
her. But then, thy mind was ever on other matters 

— adventure, and honour, and fighting. Thou mayst 
like to know, however, that Lady Emilia taketh a 
kindly interest in thy fortunes and never faileth to 
ask of thee when thy letters come. They have not 
been frequent of late ; but I suppose thou hast little 
time for clerkly offices with all the bold adventures 
that are now thine. Some rumour hath reached 


190 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Sempringham that war is like to be up ere long with 
the savage hosts that were in America ere the com- 
ing of the English. I suppose thou art rejoicing at 
such a prospect, but for mine own part, I hope the 
tale is false, matters here, ’twixt king and Parlia- 
ment, having reached so ticklish a state that the 
Colony could look for no help from England in case 
of such an outbreak. 

“Her gracious ladyship, my mother, sends her 
dear wishes for thine health and well being in all 
things. 

“ Thy loving friend, 

“ Theophilus.” 

In his absorption, Thomas had not noticed the 
sound of approaching steps, till Francis Hutchinson 
stood before him. The next moment, the two boys 
were pounding each other’s back in excess of joy at 
this reunion. 

“ I am on my way to his Worship the governor,” 
were Thomas’s first collected words. 

“Nay, ’tis useless,” said Francis. “Master Vane 
left Boston early this morning to hold parley with 
the Narragansetts, who ’tis hoped are not yet 
wholly committed to war.” 

“ Why was not I here .? ” groaned Thomas, after 


A FUJilTAN KNIGHT ERRANT 191 

a moment’s dumfounded silence. ‘‘Tell more,” he 
added, impatiently. 

“When the messenger arrived from Endicott it 
was felt that the critical moment was come, and that 
unless prompt and energetic measures were adopted 
the result would be a war of extermination against 
the English on the part of the savages,” began 
Francis, obediently. “ Yesterday I was called to the 
governor’s, where he and the other magistrates, to- 
gether with Captain Dudley, were in consultation, 
and questioned again concerning that which we had 
witnessed — the war council, for such all present 
deemed it to be, on the borders of south and west.” 

“ Why parley with such a foe ? ” demanded Thomas, 
scornfully. “Thou rememberest when a bundle of 
arrows, lapped in a rattlesnake’s skin, was sent to 
Plymouth, the reply was the same skin filled with 
powder and bullets. He who strikes first, strikes 
hardest.” 

“ Ah, Thomas, I know right well how thou lovest 
him,” said Francis, sadly. “But couldst thou have 
seen him in these latter days, thou wouldst have felt 
that none ever lived like unto Master Vane. In the 
council, so they say, men of twice and thrice his 
years have yielded to his wisdom.” 

“Oh, to have followed him to battle!” groaned 


192 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Thomas. *‘To have fastened his spurs, held his 
horse, perchance, like Brian le Sauvage, to have 
stood over his body while the dead lay twenty thick 
around ! Perchance to have given mine own life for 
his — why am I ever out of the way when something 
worthy is going on ? With what force did he go? ** 

** He went alone, afoot and unarmed,” answered 
Francis, with averted face. 

“ Alone ! What meanest thou ? ” queried Thomas, 
after a pause of dumb amazement. 

There was none to go with him,” returned Fran- 
cis, sadly. “At least,” he corrected himself, “noth- 
ing to be called a force. Captain Dudley would 
have gone, but that his Worship forbade, saying that 
he was needed at home, and that inasmuch as the 
mission was one of peace and not of war, one man 
could do the work as well as two. Thy guardian 
was fain to see the force of the reasoning. He hath 
now gone with Master Vane to the Neck, where they 
will bid each other farewell.” 

“ Where were the men of the train-band ? ” asked 
Thomas, the feeling strong upon him that in his 
absence from Boston, comparatively short though the 
time had been, some spell had been cast over the 
familiar hamlet, so altered seemed the place and all 
the people therein ! 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 93 

*‘Yester morn the drummers beat up and down 
the streets, summoning the train-band,” answered 
Francis, slowly, still speaking with averted face. 
“ It was intended to make an instant descent upon 
the savages. But not a man would go.” 

Refuse to meet the foe ! ” cried Thomas, hotly. 
“Men who fought under Frobisher and Drake afraid 
— Englishmen turn cowards ! ” 

“Captain Dudley was the only man in Boston 
capable of commanding such an expedition. The 
train-band said that he was under a Covenant of 
Works. For that reason none would go with him,” 
answered Francis, at length. He was tracing figures 
in the earth with the toe of his shoe, taking heed 
that the circles were exact. “ Thou hast heard 
nothing of that which hath set all Boston by the 
ears — of the new doctrine, as ’tis called, of the 
Covenant of Works and the Covenant of Grace } ” 
he queried, after a prolonged pause, in which his 
friend stared at him as though wondering which of 
the two had taken leave of his senses. 

“Nothing; yet wait — methinks I did hear some- 
thing of the sort spoken at the Fox farm, but in 
truth, I was too concerned with a matter that ap- 
peared to me of greater account just then than what 
folks in Boston were talking about,” rejoined Thomas, 


194 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

Stroking his nose in still perturbed recollection of his 
narrow escape. Some words, too, of that sense — 
or rather sound, for of sense I perceived none at all 
— I heard spoken on my way to thine house. If 
I recall rightly, they ran thuswise,” he went on, knit- 
ting his brows : ‘ the seal of the Spirit,’ * witnesses 

of the Spirit,’ *a broad seal and a little seal,’ * not 
being sealed.’ By their excitement, I supposed the 
people were talking of the likelihood of being mur- 
thered in their beds by the savages, and would have 
asked what news of the Pequots, but presently found 
they spoke of matters beyond my understanding. Be- 
sides, I was in a hurry to find thee, and gave no 
further heed to their idle chatter.” 

“ Thus they spend most of their time, arguing and 
quarrelling,” answered Francis, gloomily. << Captain 
Dudley, as thou knowest, is not one to tamely sub- 
mit to insubordination, but when a man throws him- 
self flat on the ground — why, thou canst not take 
such an one by the heels and drag him to the wars. 
The others of the train-band were like to follow the 
example. There hath been more than one threat- 
ened duel, only that the governor put an end to such 
extremities by threatening to tie together neck and 
heels, and expose on the pillory, any one who should 
draw weapon on such a pretext.” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT I95 

Is the whole town gone mad ? ” cried Thomas. 

“So, in truth, say some,” answered Francis, 
soberly. “ Some declare that my mother is a Mir- 
iam, a prophetess, a dear saint and servant of God. 
Others, chief amongst them being Master Wilson 
and Master Winthrop, call her a virago, a she-Gama- 
liel, the American Jezebel,” went on the lad, restrain- 
ing his tears with difficulty ; yet, once fairly started 
on his narration, finding it a relief to be able to share 
his trouble with his friend. “How the little matter 
of my mother’s reading and praying with a few 
friends in her own house could have reached such 
a pass, I know not,” added Francis. It would have 
been difficult, indeed, for older and wiser heads to 
understand how a season of religious talk and prayer, 
merging, ere long, into criticism and argument, had 
speedily become a war of words that on the morrow 
was an irreconcilable feud, and was now threatening 
a war of factions. 

“ Thy mother the woman preacher of whom they 
spoke!” repeated Thomas, incredulously. “What 
else of thy home ? ” he asked, drawing a long breath. 

“My father comes and goes, paying no heed to 
what is said or done about him,” answered Francis. 
“Could one be dead, yet at the same time alive, 
I should say that such a fate had come upon my 


196 A PURITAJ\/^ KNIGHT ERRANT 

father. Through all the sad, miserable time, Faith 
hath shown herself a right brave little maid. I knew 
not,” added Francis, hesitatingly, that she had 
taken certain foolish notions so sorely to heart, till 
two or three days ago she went from home, leaving 
a letter for me, saying — well, it matters not what 
she said,” added the lad. ‘‘The children did little 
else but cry after her whilst she was gone, and when 
she came back, fell upon her, laughing and crying 
together and like to smother her with kisses ; since 
then, she can scarce leave the room that they are 
not at her heels.” 

“ What of Captain Dudley ? ” and both boys turned 
with relief from a matter too near their own hearts 
for discussion to be easy, even were it profitable. 

It appeared that Captain Dudley was too good a 
soldier to commit the ofttimes fatal mistake of despis- 
ing the enemy, and on taking command of the Col- 
ony forces, had at once proceeded to put Boston in 
a position of defence. It was ordered that all the 
male inhabitants, with the exception of boys under 
fourteen and men over sixty, together with the mag- 
istrates and ministers, should be enrolled in the train- 
band, one squadron being apportioned to each hill. 
Dean Winthrop was appointed to drill a company of 
boys on the Common — an item that brought an omi- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 1 97 

nous frown to Thomas’s brow. Work on the fort 
was hurried on apace. The blockhouse was enclosed 
in a good strong pale, with flankers in convenient 
places, and gates to shut, which every night were 
locked, and a watch kept. Every one in town, high 
and low, had his place appointed to which he was 
to repair at any alarm. A sentry was posted on the 
Neck, where the turnstile that had sufficed to keep 
the cattle from straying, was replaced by a stout bar- 
ricade. Day and night, too, watch was kept on the 
summit of the Tramount, that commanded a view of 
the country for many miles around. Here also a 
high staff was set, by means of which, in case of 
need, the signal could be given to the people of the 
neighbouring settlements to take their arms and re- 
pair instantly to the town. By day, the signal was 
to be a banner; by night, an iron cage, filled with 
pine and pitch, would serve as a beacon. In refer- 
ence to this warning light,” added Francis, ‘‘the peak 
had been renamed Beacon Hill.” 

Yet in spite of all these warlike preparations, that 
might have been supposed to dominate all minds, it 
was no unusual thing to see the men at work on the 
fosses and palisades throw down their spades and 
pickaxes, and waste hours of precious time in heated 
discussion as to which Covenant their neighbour pro- 


198 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

fessed. It was hinted that on more than one such 
occasion, Captain Dudley had used language more 
befitting the camp of his former French liege than 
the Puritan town. Nor was the pacific speech of the 
Boy Governor of more avail : 

“ Should not the exercises and troubles which God 
is pleased to lay upon us here, teach us patience and 
forbearance one with another, though there be differ- 
ence in our opinions ? ” 

Master Vane’s example, likewise, passed unheeded, 
when with his own slender white hands, accustomed 
to no harder labour than that of wielding a sword, 
or holding the reins of his horse, he had set up the 
Beacon-light on Boston’s three-topped hill. 

Thomas suddenly gripped his friend’s arm. 

“ Let us go on the track of Master Vane ! ” he 
cried. It may be that we shall arrive just in time 
to rescue him from the savage hordes ! As true 
and loyal squire, I am bound to give my life, if need 
be, in the service of my lord. Besides, never will I 
take orders from Dean Winthrop ! ” 

A prolonged discussion followed, in which Francis 
brought to bear every available argument against 
what he unkindly called Thomas’s latest foolhardy 
scheme. 

It matters little to me where my bones lie, in the 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


199 


trackless forest, or in Westminster Abbey,” added 
Thomas, suddenly remindful of Lord Eaton’s letter. 

‘‘It may not matter overmuch where my bones 
lie, but it concerns me a great deal where I lay them 
down,” repeated Francis, doggedly. “I prefer to 
die comfortably abed to being scalped and murthered 
by a savage crew. I’ faith, they may talk as they 
will about a Covenant of Grace and a Covenant of 
Works, I think a likely misliking for Indian warfare 
was not without its weight with those who refused to 
go with Captain Dudley.” 

“Then will I go alone ! ” declared Thomas. 

“That thou shalt not,” returned Francis, with 
equal determination. “Thou art a mad, scatter- 
brained fellow, but if thou hast made up thy mind 
to go, — and I see thou hast, — why, I will not suffer 
thee to go alone, for there is no telling what manner 
of mischief thou wilt get into next.” 

“I would as lieve face the Narragan setts, who, 
when all is said and done, did not treat me ill, as 
meet Captain Dudley,” muttered Thomas, whose awe 
of his guardian had not lessened with the tidings of 
the unhappy fate of the mare. “Though at the 
worst,” he added, repeating the philosophy that has 
cheered the hearts of generations of boys in similar 
predicaments ; 


200 


A FUmi AN KNIGHT ERRANT 


<<< Scolding don’t hurt, whipping don’t last long, 
kill me he dasn’t. ” 

It was speedily settled that the most feasible plan 
was to go south by water, — thus avoiding the sentry 
on the Neck, and skirting the coast till the neighbour- 
hood of the Narragansett country was reached, when 
they would make the best of their way to the lodge 
of Miantonimo, where, barring accidents, or unfore- 
seen delays. Master Vane would no doubt by that time 
have arrived. The conjecture was probably correct 
that the governor, unaccustomed to the management 
of a boat in the rough and treacherous waters of the 
New England coast, had for this reason chosen the 
more difficult and circuitous route by land. The In- 
dian trail that was the only other means of com- 
munication to the south did not follow the shore, 
but wound about the head waters of tidal inlets and 
circled the uplands in search of fords, where alone it 
was possible to cross the swamps. 

It was arranged that Francis should return to the 
house for food and other necessities, while his friend 
made ready the old dugout. The latter task accom- 
plished, Thomas spent the remainder of the day in 
the shadow of a rock, dreaming the wide-eyed dreams 
of which he was so fond. At twilight, Francis ap- 
peared and the two boys pushed off. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


201 


The water-fowl that hovered by day over the 
Charles River marshes were seeking their roosting- 
places along the water’s edge of the myriad islands, 
their hoarse calls being the only sound that broke 
the silence as the boys, having placed a safe distance 
between themselves and the town, drew in their oars 
for a moment’s breathing space. 

Over the crest of Beacon Hill the sun was pouring 
one of those gorgeous sunsets to which the people 
of Boston, wonted to the soft duns and grays that 
hung low over the Lincolnshire fens, had not yet 
ceased to marvel. To one whose naturally vivid 
imagination had been fed to repletion, like Thomas, 
on old romances and scarcely less fabled tales of 
travel, the spectacle was one to fire the train of all 
manner of uncanny fancies. Unbidden came the 
thought, what if all these whisperings of Boston 
lying under the spell of a sorceress were true, and 
the woman preacher” was really one of those 
wrecked, remorseless souls who would drag to perdi- 
tion all on whom she could cast her evil spells ? 

The last rays of the sun were shooting arrows of 
gold and crimson and green from behind the crest 
of the Tramount, transforming the dome to a ball of 
gold. Below, swimming in a violet mist, a great 
city, like the one told of in Kubla Khan, of which he 


202 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


had been dreaming all the afternoon, outstretched to 
the water’s edge. 

A sea-gull, dropping apparently from the sky, 
flapped wide distended wings directly over the boat. 
A paroxysm of terror came upon the boy. 

“ Row faster, faster ! ” he cried, seizing the oars, 
only to make a false stroke. In an unavailing effort 
to recover himself, he laid hold of the gunwale of the 
boat. The next instant, the clumsy craft had upset 
and the two boys were in the water. 



“THE NEXT INSTANT, THE CLUMSY CRAFT HAD UPSET AND 
THE TWO BOYS WERE IN THE WATER ” 





CHAPTER XIV. 


Both boys were expert swimmers and soon reached 
the island near which they had been upset. Their 
first collected thought was for the boat. 

“ Tis too late ; better not try to get it,” said 
Francis, as Thomas would have plunged again into 
the water. 

The craft possessed buoyancy enough to float, al- 
though filled with water up to the gunwales ; but 
caught in one of the currents that ran amongst the 
islands, it was being borne rapidly out to sea. As 
the situation dawned upon the two boys, they looked 
at each other in dismay. Their food — bisket-cake, 
Indian-mixt bread, and suppawn, to which they had 
helped themselves liberally from Mistress Hutchin- 
son’s well-filled buttery — was, of course, lost with 
the boat. Fortunately, they had with them means 
to kindle a fire, and almost as with one impulse, 
they started up the slope to the woods, a few rods 
distant, where were found underbrush and broken 
203 


204 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


branches in plenty. Hanging their wet clothes on 
bushes near by, they played leap-frog on the beach 
till the fire was well under way. The exercise aided 
to revive their spirits, so that when they drew within 
the welcome circle of warmth, the situation had lost 
something of its gloom. 

‘‘They will see the fire from the town and will 
soon set off to rescue us,” said Thomas. 

“Who is going to know that it is we.-* ” rejoined 
Francis, sulkily. “ Folk yonder have something else 
to do besides setting sail in the dead o’ night to see 
what means a little blaze on a harbour island. Be- 
sides, several islands with wooded heights shut us 
from view of the town. We might as well be in Ply- 
mouth — or England, for that matter, for all Boston 
can see us.” 

“The sentry on Beacon Hill could see the fire,” 
rejoined Thomas, with less confidence. 

“ A little smoke would cause no alarm ; careless 
folk are continually setting fire to the trees on the 
islands when they come here for firewood,” rejoined 
Francis, holding his ground with unwonted perti- 
nacity. 

“ A lighter will come, ere long, for pitch pine. See 
how well-wooded the place is,” observed Thomas, 
lamely, for even to his optimistic vision it was evi- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 205 

dent that the spot would scarce have been so well 
wooded, if lighters came there frequently. 

“ People are cautious about coming even so far 
out to sea as this, since the affair of John Oldham,” 
returned Francis. “I verily believe,” he continued, 
in tones of the deepest disgust, that thou wouldst 
contrive to upset a raft in the Frog Pond. Of a 
truth, Thomas, an ever we get to land, I will have 
nought to do with thy hair-brained schemes again. 
A score of times have I said the same, and a score 
of times belied it. But Pll not go back on my word 
again. An thou wert not so fond of riding a high 
horse, thou wouldst not get so many tumbles ! ” 

“ Tis not my fault,” urged Thomas, crestfallen, in 
spite of himself, at these strictures from so unwonted 
a source. “ An a vessel blows up, or a mare runs 
away, or a crabbed landlord will not trust a gentle- 
man’s word, or there is a hole in the road for a clumsy 
beast to put his hoof into, or a boat upsets in a dead 
calm — why, sure, I am not to blame, but the devil 
is in it all ! It hath sometimes seemed to nie that 
some one hath cast an ill spell upon me, and all that 
I attempt, else why should dull plodders like Dean 
Winthrop succeed in all that they undertake, while 
one of good parts like myself — an I do say it — 
comes to nought,” argued Thomas. “ But I thought 


206 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


I could rely on thy friendship, Francis, though all 
the world played me false — ” The lad’s voice 
trembled and the sentence remained unfinished. 

After a moment’s silence, Francis came around to 
the other side of the fire and put his arm about his 
friend’s shoulders. 

“ I did but speak in heat and not out of my sober 
sense,” he said. An thy friend of the Castle forget 
thee, — though I think, indeed, that that is not like 
to happen, for with all thy provoking ways, thou hast 
a fashion, like to none other, of entering a fellow’s 
heart, — ay, and staying there,” interpolated Francis, 
‘‘never will I turn my back on thee. Come what 
may, thou art my brother; and I know right well 
that thou wert made to lead and I to follow.” 

“And I love thee, too, Francis,” rejoined Thomas, 
“as well as, in the old days, I loved Theophilus — 
though he was a right good and merry comrade,” 
added the boy, loyally. “ But thou art my brother, 
and Faith is my sister, and thy mother hath ever 
been to me as mine own mother, whom I never knew. 
And come what may, never will I forget it of thee 
and thine — and here’s my hand on it.” 

The two boys gripped hands beneath the starlight 
with a solemnity that seemed to belong to the time 
and place ; perhaps, too, in some vague and uncon- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 20 / 

scious premonition of coming ill, when they must, in- 
deed, stand shoulder to shoulder against all the world 
— and the world, to them, was Boston. 

When they awoke the next morning, the sun was 
shining upon one of those mild, windless days of late 
summer, when a gentle haze lies upon the brilliant 
New England foliage and softens the sky to tur- 
quoise. On the one side, an opal sea stretched out 
into indefinite distance, broken only by a white line 
of surf as the waves broke upon the jagged reef that 
shut Boston Harbour from the open Atlantic. On the 
other side, beyond the lovely islands of the Bay, 
the Tramount stood boldly out against the sky, with 
the range of the Blue Hills beyond. The boys 
broke fast on mussels, and a few ground-nuts — fare 
that only whetted their already ravenous appetites. 
Their first thought was to explore the island ; 
although there was little doubt that it had been 
uninhabited since the settlement of Boston, it seemed 
best to proceed cautiously. Avoiding the trail 
through the woods, which indicated a former sav- 
age occupation, the boys followed the beach along 
the shore, their steps becoming bolder as the as- 
surance increased that they had the island to them- 
selves. Suddenly, on a grassy terrace high above 
the sea, they canie upon a scene from which they 


208 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


shrank in horror. Before them lay evidences of 
the great mortality that in foretimes had prevailed 
in those parts — a veritable Golgotha, bones and 
skulls lying in great heaps, bleached by the sun 
and rain, and twisted by the wind and storms into 
all manner of uncouth and grotesque attitudes, as 
though death had overtaken the poor wretches in 
their tracks. Doubtless here was the explanation of 
the island being unvisited by lighters. 

Skirting ^‘Graveyard Point,” as they named the 
terrace, the boys soon reached the woods, and pres- 
ently came upon a path that led through a growth 
of pine to a good quantity of clear ground, where it 
appeared that the Indians had formerly set corn. A 
growth of young woodland had nearly taken posses- 
sion of the clearing, and the most careful search 
revealed only a few stunted corn-stalks with withered 
ears. They continued their explorations till a shout 
from Thomas, who was somewhat in advance, brought 
Francis to his side. 

Before them were evidences of a former habita- 
tion ; some planks and a great kettle were remain- 
ing, and heaps of sand. The boys, digging up these 
heaps, found in them baskets filled with corn, and 
some in ears fair and good, and of divers colours ; in 
other baskets were beans of different colours. Some 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 209 

of the corn was soon pounded between two stones, 
after the Indian fashion, and set to boiling in the 
kettle. This “samp,” together with some clams 
roasted in the seaweed, afforded a substantial meal. 
There was enough timber in good condition remain- 
ing of the house to construct a shelter, open at the 
front and sloping to the ground at the sides and back. 
A fire in front of this lean-to afforded warmth and 
protection against the east wind, that even in mid- 
summer sometimes pierced to the bone those accus- 
tomed to the milder climate of the North Sea, and 
which would also secure the shipwrecked adventurers 
against the possible attack of any wild beast that 
might make its way from the mainland. 

Lying on the warm sand, after finishing their meal 
with handfuls of the delicious huckleberries found in 
abundance on the hillside, their seeming mishap 
began to assume the light of an agreeable adventure, 
particularly to Thomas. 

“’Twould not be so ill a thing an we were to 
spend the remainder of our lives here, instead of 
returning to Boston,” he suggested. 

“’Tis well enough now,” rejoined his companion, 
“but when a nor’easter comes tearing over Boston 
Harbour, then my choice is for a tight roof, and a 
warm fireside.” 


210 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


** Old Dickory knew a Spanish ' sailor who lived 
for two and twenty years on an island at the mouth 
of the Orinoco. He had for company a parrot 
that he taught to speak, and an amiable savage 
who became a beautiful Christian character,” said 
Thomas. 

** The savages hereabouts are not of that breed,” 
returned Francis, energetically. “ Your island in 
the Orinoco may have been one of those visited by 
your friends Prester John or Marco Polo, but an they 
ever lived, — which I doubt, — the amiable savage 
and the beautiful Christian character of a parrot 
were long ago drowned out in some flood along 
shore. For mine own part,” continued the lad, 
soberly, ever since I visited that Indian village, and 
saw those hideous savage faces, cruel and blood- 
thirsty even in their sleep, an awful fear and 
trembling comes upon me at the mere mention of 
their name. Many and many hath been the time 
since then, while the talk was of the Pequots, that I 
have awakened with the sound of their yell in mine 
ears, and thought to see, at my bedside, a crouching 
figure, with uplifted tomahawk ! ” He put his hand 
to his head, as though the mere allusion to the 
frightful savage ceremony caused an uneasy twitch- 
* Probably the original of Robinson Crusoe. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


21 I 


ing of the scalp. “ I am not like to play any great 
part in the world,” he went on, ‘‘but with thee, 
Thomas, it is different. Thou art of the stuff of 
which leaders are made. If all the lads in town have 
followed thee ever since thou cam’st amongst them, 
’twas not only that they loved thee right well, but 
because they could not, an they would, have done 
otherwise — though thou hast been the cause of 
more floggings in Boston than all the original sin 
of which Master Wilson preaches.” 

Thomas smiled a little gratified smile as he aimed 
a pebble at a sandpiper that was hopping within 
touch of his outflung arm, although it was with a 
sigh that he answered : 

“ All but the one for whose heart I yearned ! ” 
and told his friend of how his lady love had played 
him false. 

“Why, look at the matter seriously,” urged Fran- 
cis. “Favoured as thou wert at Sempringham 
Castle, still, thou wert a dependent. Lady Emilia 
was one of the richest heiresses in all England. 
Without doubt, the Earl of Lincoln intended her mar- 
riage with his son when they should have reached a 
suitable age. As thou grew’st toward manhood, and 
one could see that thou wert of a sort that maids love 
to look upon, thinkst not that the thought may have 


212 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


come to the noble earl and countess, that ’twere well 
to have thee out of the way ere Lady Emilia were of 
an age to choose for herself — or perchance to breed 
unhappiness for you both through an unconsidered 
fancy ? Nay, nay, Thomas, be not so quick to 
wrath,” he added, as his friend started up with an 
exclamation of anger. Bethink thee ! The earl 
owed a duty to Lady Emilia as well as to thee. In 
his eyes, — and I doubt not that he acted in good 
faith to you both, — he would scarce have fulfilled 
that duty had he suffered thee and Lady Emilia to 
wed. Tis likely he would not have ordered thee 
away, but ’tis strong on my mind that when thy 
brain was all aflame for America, to let thee go 
thither was a straight and easy way out of a situ- 
ation that, an I lose not my guess, was fast growing 
one of concern to both his lordship and her lady- 
ship,” concluded the lad, shrewdly. 

If I thought ’twas as thou sayst,” cried Thomas, 
in fiery tones, I would go home in the next ship 
that sailed and demand Lady Emilia’s hand of her 
perfidious guardian.” 

And thinkst thou wouldst get it } ” queried his 
friend, dryly. “Nay, be not a fool, Thomas. The 
earl hath been thy friend throughout, in this matter 
as in others — ay, I think even more in this than in 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2 1 3 

most. 'Twould have bred only unhappiness for both 
thee and Lady Emilia hadst thou stayed at Sempring- 
ham. Hath not the countess told thee that, when 
the time came for thee to choose a wife, she would 
give her an ample dowry out of her own estate } ” 

“ Twas treacherous, nevertheless,” muttered 
Thomas. 

“Art sure thou hast not already proven that the 
good earl and countess were right } ” persisted 
Francis. “ I have not heard thee mention Lady 
Emilia’s name for months, when once ’twas ever on 
thy lips. For mine own part,” went on Francis, 
seriously, “no maid ever lived who could keep me 
awake nights or make me less ready for dinner or 
less lusty for a pull at the oar or a turn at wrestling. 
But then, I was not brought up with ladies and maids 
as thou wert, and know nothing of the ways of castle 
folk. But maybe there’s a sort of shrewdness that 
comes along o’ keeping shop, as some of my forabears 
have done, that counts for something — at least when 
pounds and pence are in the matter ; and I take it, 
they are, oftener than lords and ladies would allow,” 
added the lad, shrewdly. “ When first I knew thee, 
a score of songs were on thy lips, some sad, some 
merry ; there was one I liked the best of all. The 
tune ran thuswise ” — Francis hummed a gay air. 


214 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


“ ‘ Be she fairer than the day, 

Or the flowery meads in May, 

So she be not fair to me, 

What care I how fair she be ? ’ ” 

trolled Thomas. 

<‘An thou must have a lady,” went on Francis, 
seriously, why, there is Faith. An she is my sister, 
I may say she is no ill-looking wench. She is of 
proper wit and understanding, too, as thou knowest. 
I should like right well to have thee for a brother, 
too, — in truth, as well as in friendship.” 

But to this handsome offer, Thomas shook his 
head with the air of one who would say that the 
place once occupied by the beloved one, even though 
she had proved false, would never again be filled. 

It was agreed between the two boys that they 
should set at once about constructing a dugout, and 
for this purpose, fortunately, a tree was found that 
had been felled by lightning. One boy in the wood 
was to keep at the toil of hacking the log into shape, 
while the other, on the beach, fished, shot sea-fowl, 
— bows and arrows having been discovered in the 
debris of the house, — and kept, the while, a sharp 
lookout for any passing vessel. 

Thomas was thus alone for many hours of the day, 
and it was at these times that the thought of Faith 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2 1 5 

in the character suggested by Faith’s brother, re- 
turned again and again with ever-increasing insistence, 
till, ere long, her image was the one that he called 
before his mental vision in the solitude, and that 
accompanied all the thoughts that are bred of the 
sea and of the woods. Yet, in a manner that some- 
times seemed to him passing strange, so little true 
understanding had he of his own nature, and in so 
unreal an atmosphere had romance and the old 
chivalric tales surrounded the lady of his devotion, 
that while it was Faith’s face that arose before him 
in the forest aisles. Faith’s voice that he heard in the 
splashing of the waves upon the shingly beach, it 
was Faith in the surroundings of Lady Emilia as he 
had been wont to see the maid of the Castle. There 
was one gown, in particular, in which he had best 
liked to see the highborn young dame arrayed ; he 
had sometimes fancied that, because of this liking. 
Lady Emilia wore it oftener than any other. But it 
was Faith whom he now saw in the robe of fine 
stammel red, with its embroidered stomacher and 
puffed and slashed sleeves, girdled with ropes of 
pearls. Her hair, worn in its shining length, was 
banded, too, with pearls. Thomas* had only seen 
Faith’s hair once, when they were out fishing and the 
wind had blown off her little cap. He was fain to 


2i6 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


confess that not Lady Emilia, nor any of the ladies 
of the Castle, had such beautiful hair. 

By and by, in the vagaries of his undisciplined 
imagination, it was Faith — still the Faith of the 
Castle, however, not the girl whom he had seen 
performing all the humble household duties with 
such uncomplaining patience — to whom he had 
vowed allegiance and for whom all his deeds of 
prowess were to be performed. The strangest trick, 
however, played in all this fantasy was when it ap- 
peared to be Faith whom, in some untoward fashion, 
he had lost for ever, though it was he who had been 
unfaithful to their mutual vows, not Faith — never 
Faith, with the true, starry eyes that, whatever were 
the other changes that might come over his little 
playmate, would always remain unaltered. 

No vessel of any description had been seen till the 
close of their first week on the island, when, as they 
were eating supper, it having been Thomas’s turn 
to mount guard during the afternoon, the two 
boys descried a sail bearing rapidly eastward. It 
was impossible to tell with certitude who were 
aboard the craft, but Thomas thought to distinguish 
the towering form of Captain Dudley ; to add to the 
bitterness of the situation, the shallop must have 
passed within a stone’s throw of Graveyard Point, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 21 ^ 

which, it appeared, Thomas, in his turn of mounting 
guard, had been giving a wide berth. 

The vessel reached the line of the Outer Brewsters 
and took a course due south. 

It is going to the rescue of Master Vane ! ” ex- 
claimed Thomas. '‘There will be a fight with the 
Indians, and I shall not be there! ” 

" If thou art so scared of a few dead Indians, — 
who have been dead so long that Tm thinking they 
are scarce like to come to life again, — I durst not 
think thou wouldst face a. score of live ones with any 
better heart,’' retorted Francis, in an ill temper that 
lasted till morning. 

The days were growing shorter ; the nights, despite 
the blazing fire, were chill with autumn frosts ; tired 
to the point of nausea with their monotonous fare, 
the dugout was at last completed, and the two boys 
took leave of the island. 


CHAPTER XV. 


Short as was the distance from the island to the 
peninsula, nearly the entire morning was consumed 
in the passage, made almost in silence, as both boys 
realised that they were returning, not as heroes, but 
as runaways. They headed the canoe toward the 
more remote beach to the south, preferring to avoid 
the questioning that would greet their landing nearer 
the settlement. They made their way through the 
town, too absorbed in their own reflections to per- 
ceive immediately that an unusual number of people 
were abroad. But as they neared the market-place, 
it became evident that some stirring event was afoot. 
Thomas accosted the next person they met. 

Hast not heard ? ” returned the man, in manifest 
astonishment. “ Where hast thou been the past four 
and twenty hours Nothing hath been talked of in 
the town, ay, and round about so far as the news 
hath travelled, but the return of Captain Dudley and 
Master Vane.” 


218 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 219 

‘^What hath chanced?” queried Thomas, impa- 
tiently. 

The man, evidently glad to have the opportunity of 
relating so exciting a tale, entered at once upon the 
narration as he and the two boys kept on their way 
toward the market-place. Yestreen Master Vane 
returned alive and unharmed, thanks to the valour of 
Captain Dudley. It appeared that on the departure 
of Master Vane, Captain Dudley won from him the 
agreement that in case his Worship did not return or 
send news within a week, then was he. Captain Dud- 
ley, with such force as he could muster, to hasten to 
his aid. In return, the governor claimed the solemn 
promise that, if the Boston men refused again to 
accompany their commander, the latter would not go 
alone. One life was enough to sacrifice, he declared, 
and in case of his own death Captain Dudley would 
be more than ever needed at home. On this under- 
standing, the two men wrung hands at the Neck, and 
Harry Vane set forth alone on his perilous mission. 

The allotted time passed. Perchance shamed into 
manhood by the example of the Boy Governor, eight 
men of the train-band volunteered to accompany 
Captain Dudley to the land of the Narragan setts. 
In their frail craft the little party proceeded south 
along the coast till they reached the remains of one 


220 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


of the early settlements of which famine or cold or 
sickness had made an untimely end. Dudley and his 
men took possession, strengthened the stockade, and 
fortified one of the blockhouses within. Ostensibly 
their object was trade ; but the savages seemed to 
have suspected their real purpose, and for some time 
avoided intercourse with them. By degrees, how- 
ever, gaining confidence, and seeing the small num- 
ber of the white men, they grew bolder and came to 
the stockade more frequently and in larger numbers. 
Master Vane was still at the Narragansett village, 
but though treated ostensibly with respect and even 
friendliness, it was evident that his position was be- 
coming every day more precarious. Pequot emissa- 
ries were striving to gain the alliance of Miantonimo, 
and it was become a question that any moment might 
decide, whether the Narragansett chieftain would be 
won to their side or to that of the English. Once, 
indeed. Master Vane subsequently related, he heard 
a stealthy step behind and felt a hand lifting his hair, 
but the savage stole away without harming him. 

Interpreting the inactivity of the white men as a 
sign that they were afraid to engage with them, the 
Indians came in larger numbers to the stockade, while 
on more than one occasion, Dudley and his men were 
treated with such open scorn that the old soldier 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


221 


had with difficulty restrained himself from killing the 
insulting savage then and there. So matters were 
suffered to stand till the time was ripe. 

Meantime, Sassacus, the Pequot chief, had arrived 
upon the scene, and the number of Pequots in the 
neighbourhood was rapidly increasing. Many of 
these did not hesitate to come within the stockade, 
where they bore themselves with a license that in 
itself was a challenge. 

One day the Pequot chief, with two or three of his 
principal men, came to the blockhouse, and was per- 
mitted to enter. The door was flung to and made 
fast. Suddenly giving the preconcerted signal, 
Dudley sprang upon Sassacus ; his men fell upon the 
other chiefs. The savages, not making any fearful 
noise, but catching at their weapons and striving to 
the last, fell, covered with an incredible number of 
wounds. 

Without waiting for their own hurts to stiffen. 
Captain Dudley and his men set out for the Narra- 
gansett lodge, where it appeared the news of the 
death of Sassacus had preceded them. Miantonimo, 
disclaiming all connivance with the schemes of the 
Pequot chief, straightway put the ambassadors of his 
proposed ally to death. 

‘‘ We have always loved the English and desired 


222 


A FURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


to be at peace with them,” said the Narragansett 
chieftain, with the manner of one who expects to be 
believed. “ We perceived, while our white brother 
dwelt with us, that he was under the protection of 
the Great Spirit. Thus we speak, not out of fear — 
a Narragansett knows no fear; nor price — a Narra- 
gansett does not sell his heart ; but out of the love 
and favour which we bear toward the great chief of 
the English — Harrivane ! ” 

All these amenities were accepted by Master 
Dudley with the manner of one who believes, merely 
supplemented by the statement that he and the 
great English chief rejoiced that the good intentions 
of their Narragansett brother were discovered in 
time, as the English had been upon the point of call- 
ing the plague out of the ground again, where, as 
was well known, they kept it, having sent it in 
advance of their first coming. 

It was agreed between the two leaders that it was 
best to hold Miantonimo to an immediate and formal 
ratification of his expressions of good will ; and to 
this end the Narragansett chieftain was invited to 
return with them to Boston. Before setting out on 
the homeward march, however. Captain Dudley de- 
termined to take advantage of the present disorgani- 
sation of the Pequots, and, accompanied by some of 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


223 


the Narragansett braves, set forth upon their tracks. 
Overtaking the principal party of the Pequots in 
a swamp not far distant, either side started forward 
to reach a slight elevation close at hand which would 
give those reaching it a manifest advantage. The 
English gained it, and in the fight that followed 
killed the greater number of their assailants. 

“This sudden and unexpected execution,” con- 
cluded the narrator, “together with the just judg- 
ment of God upon their guilty consciences, so 
wrought and terrified and amazed the savages that 
they forsook their houses, running to and fro like 
men distracted, living in swamps and other desert 
places ; and so brought manifold diseases upon them- 
selves, whereof many died.” 

On the return of Dudley and his men from the 
south, the tidings of their victory spread rapidly 
along the way, and numerous folk from the neigh- 
bouring settlements followed in the footsteps of 
the little band. Every point of vantage within the 
market-place had been secured by the .eager throng, 
and from housetops and fences, and even from the 
slender young trees that the English had lost no 
time in setting out, eager faces were turned toward 
the centre of the green, where the closing scene of 
these exciting doings was to be enacted. 


224 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

The crowd, momentarily surging toward the north 
as the cry was heard, “ Way for his Worship the 
governor ! " was pressed back by the pikes of the 
constables. 

A gallant figure appeared, arrayed in plumed hat 
and a crimson velvet short cloak, of which the folds, 
flung over the left shoulder, revealed a white and gold 
doublet, with slashed and banded sleeves, and ruffles 
of fine lace at the neck and wrists. Small-clothes of 
white silk, banded with gold, gold-embroidered gaunt- 
lets and a jewel-hilted sword, completed the courtly 
attire of the Boy Governor. Never had Harry Vane 
looked so beautiful as he stood in Boston market- 
place, the sunlight falling on his golden brown hair, 
the look of commanding intellect and imperious will 
stamped upon his youthful features, more marked 
than ever, as he awaited the homage of the savage 
chieftain. For the hour, factional differences were 
forgotten and all Boston was united in a thousand- 
fold return of the worship with which Harry Vane 
was regarded in the early days of his sojourn in 
Massachusetts. Again and again, from house-tops 
and market-place arose an irrepressible outburst of 
rejoicing and admiration and love. 

The general attention thus absorbed, it was scarcely 
noted that toward the south another path was being 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 225 

cleared through the crowd, till all at once there stood 
before the governor the bronze figure of the Narra- 
gansett chieftain, in paint and fringed garments of 
deerskin, eagle feathers and wampum. Miantonimo 
was accompanied by three of his sachems and twenty 
sannups, while drawn up in line on either side of the 
savage warriors were Captain Dudley and his men, in 
full war panoply. Captain Dudley was only second to 
the young governor in the adulation of the multitude. 
His recent achievement was the crowning touch to the 
revulsion of popular feeling that had been making its 
way in his favour since his return to Boston as mili- 
tary commander. The old soldier appeared as ston- 
ily indifferent, however, to the present expression of 
the multitude as he had previously shown himself to 
popular misconception, whether in self-exile, or in 
digging ditches and erecting fosses and palisades 
under the tropical sun of a Boston midsummer. 

The crowd a-tiptoe and agape, there followed em- 
braces, the offering of presents by the Narragansett 
chieftain, and their gracious acceptance by the Eng- 
lish governor. The head of Sassacus was placed upon 
the ridge-pole of the meeting-house, his skin nailed to 
the door. Then Master Vane invited Miantonimo 
with his sachems to his own house, for refreshments, 
the presence of the magistrates giving additional dig- 


226 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


nity to the occasion. The sannups were entertained 
at the tavern by Master Dudley, with an imposing 
guard of the train-band in attendance. His own 
trick should not be turned upon the wily old soldier. 

That day, the tithing-man and beadle forgot their 
offices, and in the streets of Boston, where idleness 
and gossip were offences against the law, groups of 
men and women stood bareheaded in the open, dis- 
cussing the great events of the day. A throng, kept 
at decent limits by the train-band, surrounded the 
governor’s house and the tavern, where such as could 
obtain glimpses of the feasting within, circulated 
scraps of information amongst those less fortunately 
placed. 

At dusk, Miantonimo, with his sachems and san- 
nups, were escorted by Master Dudley and his men 
to the Neck, where they were dismissed with a salute. 

Boston was saved. 

Thomas and Francis, who had lost little of the 
day’s exciting events, hung upon the heels of the 
train-band till the last gun was fired. Darkness had 
fallen when they found themselves again within the 
town. 

‘‘Thou hast nought but a flogging before thee,” 
said Thomas, gloomily, as the two boys parted at 
the familiar corner. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 22 / 

“A flogging is not the pleasantest of welcomes 
home,” returned Francis, in a tone of equal gravity. 

The evil hour could no longer be delayed, and 
Thomas kept on his way to the tavern. As he 
entered the tap-room. Master Dudley, setting down 
the tankard of ale that he had just drained, turned 
to confront his errant ward. 

A veritable Viking in strength and stature was 
Thomas Dudley, as well as in the fair hair and ruddy 
complexion that bespoke his descent from the con- 
quering hosts of Hengist and Horsa. The old sol- 
dier’s helmet was laid aside, but he had not yet 
removed the rest of his armour ; corselet and gorget 
and tasses bore witness of many a hard blow given 
and received. Leaning upon his sword, with which 
he had led his troop at Ivry, and which scarce an- 
other in the Colony could wield. Captain Dudley 
towered above the boy, who, cap in hand, stood awe- 
struck at the transformation of the faithful steward, 
the shrewd manager of infinite detail, into this war- 
like giant. 

‘^Well, sirrah said Captain Dudley, at length, 
and as at the word of command, rather than because 
his awe was lessened, Thomas found stammering 
speech. 

What is thine age, Thomas } ” asked Captain 


228 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Dudley, at length, when the boy thought the ensu- 
ing silence would never end. “ Hard on sixteen } 
And when dost thou mean to quit thy fooleries and 
act the man he added, as the lad stood twisting 
his cap, tongue-tied. If he could only be flogged 
and have it over ! 

Since my coming hither I have heard nought 
of thee but idle and mischievous pranks,” Captain 
Dudley continued. “ Thou wert sent to me by thy 
kinswoman to make a man of thee ; and out of my 
dear duty to the Countess of Lincoln, as well as be- 
cause thy father was my trusty comrade in the old 
days,” — the soldier’s hand, as though by irresistible 
force of association, sought his sword, — ‘‘I would 
be thy friend. Her ladyship, as thou knowest, would 
have had thee bred a minister,” he went on, but 
’twas left to my discretion, an that proved not thy 
vocation, as to what calling thou shouldst be trained, 
it being understood that the countess would be at 
the charge of thine maintenance, meanwhile, at what- 
ever sum I judged to be the proper cost. But ’tis 
plain thou hast not the call to be a minister, and 
’twas in my mind, that thou shouldst return with me 
to Agawam and be bred a farmer. Nay, nay, lad,” 
the soldier interrupted himself, with a half smile at 
Thomas’s exclamation of dismay, “be not so quick 


A PUJilTAN KNIGHT ERRANT 22() 

to make an end of the matter. His Worship the 
governor hath besought thy pardon for thy disobedi- 
ence and thy mad pranks, and to-morrow thou wilt 
resume thy place on his guard.” He placed a kindly 
hand on the boy’s shoulder as Thomas, bewildered 
at this unexpected turn of affairs, could scarce find 
stammering speech. 

“Not to me dost thou owe thy gratitude. For 
less than one act of disobedience, such as thine, I 
have ordered a man shot. Thou hast to learn, be- 
fore one can rule, he must obey. Master Vane, too, 
was thy friend of an earlier day,” resumed Captain 
Dudley, gravely. “ Shortly on that affair of election 
day, it was decided to send the guilty person, or 
persons, to England in disgrace, and there appeared 
little doubt, in the minds of the magistrates, as to 
who the culprit was. Master Vane was resolved at 
all hazards to get thee out of the way for a space ; 
hence thou wert despatched, in haste, to Agawam. 
Soon their honourable worships had other matters 
than thy pranks to think on. Again, when the 
Saugus landlord sent a constable at thy heels. Mas- 
ter Vane, on his authority as governor, had him 
withdraw the complaint, on being satisfied to the full 
value — and something more — of the horse. ’Tis 
not with the best will and judgment that I leave thee 


230 


A FUHITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


here, but Master Vane, being governor, is to be 
obeyed. Besides,” added the old soldier, heartily, 
I like the lad, and would trust his judgment of men 
beyond the ripeness of his years. We have slept 
and eaten and fought together, and in all things did 
he hold himself subject to me. When a man of 
Harry Vane’s stuff shows such willingness to obey, 
faith, I make sure he is as well fitted to command. 
He hath but tried his maiden powers here in Boston, 
but some day the world will hear of this same young 
Harry Vane ! There is about him, certes, I know 
not what, which minds me of my one-time lord and 
master. King Henry of Navarre — God rest his gal- 
lant soul, though he sold it to papistry and perdition 
for a crown ! I think men would follow young Harry 
Vane into the heart of the fight, even as we followed 
the white plume of Henry of Navarre at Ivry, and 
cared not whether we came back or no. Belike, it 
may be that men give me the credit of the fight, 
and I’d not say but what I may have struck a blow 
or two; but when out yonder we were footsore or 
hungry or sick with wounds or struck with the diz- 
ziness that comes upon men a-wandering in these 
swamps, ’twas ever the Boy Governor who nerved us 
to the march or put heart into us for the fight with the 
murdering, bloody foe, till the very Indians beheld 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 23 I 

the God of Hosts on our side, and threw down their 
bows and arrows at the sight of Harrivane ! 

‘*Fare thee well, lad. To-morrow I return to 
Agawam. And right glad am I to be quit of this 
town,” concluded the old soldier, fervently; “for 
sooner would I face the Pequot arrows again, than 
Boston tongues when they be set a- wagging ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


<<What is this latest talk, Francis, concerning thy 
mother.?” cried Thomas. His knock at the door 
had been unheeded, but hearing the sound of voices 
within, he had entered without further announce- 
ment. Faith had just replied with considerable 
vehemence to some remark of her brother’s. 

‘‘They are saying that it was because of my 
mother that the Lord lifted His threatening hand 
against us in the Pequot war ; that He will not 
always spare us ; and except that she who is the 
breeder and nourish er of all these distempers be 
dealt with according to her iniquities, Boston will 
be visited by the fate that overtook the cities of the 
plain,” answered Francis, bitterly. 

“ Who or what hath incited this mad talk .? ” 
queried Thomas, in amazement. 

“ It toucheth matters too large for my understand- 
ing,” returned Francis, despondently. “Sometimes 
it seems,” the lad went on, “ as though my mother 
was the centre of a web that others were spinning 
232 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 233 

about her to their own ends. But what it all means 
I do not know.” 

Master Winthrop would be governor again,” 
said Faith, abruptly. Whilst Master Vane and Cap- 
tain Dudley were away, the deputy governor knew 
how to make good use of his time.” 

When Thomas expressed wonderment that she, 
being a girl, and untutored in the larger things of 
life, should have arrived at conclusions in regard 
to matters touching upon government. Faith smiled 
sadly as she replied : 

When it may be a question ^of life or death to 
one’s mother whether this or the other man be 
elected governor, even the poor wit of a girl may see 
as far as that of men.” 

<‘We have received warning that, in the event of 
Master Winthrop again being governor, as seemeth 
possible, my mother will be called upon to retract 
her so-called heresies, on penalty of worse to follow,” 
explained Francis. 

** Who told thee this } ” queried Thomas. ** How 
knowest thou the mind of the governor that is to be ? 
— if so, indeed. Master Winthrop deems himself ! 
he added, scornfully. 

<*Dean Winthrop hath but now left the house,” 
answered Francis. “ In recompense for his military 


234 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

services, despite his youth, he hath been made free- 
man, and will sit at the next general court. It 
would seem that in view of his coming of age, his 
father hath held speech with him concerning grave 
matters, particularly touching those that he is pleased 
to call the present disturbances in the church.” 

Military services, forsooth ! ” scoffed Thomas. 
“ A soldier who never left the Common, a hero who 
hath never killed anything but pigeons. I am not so 
easily taken in with fair words. What should cause 
this sudden good will on Dean’s part, unless he 
hath some cunning purpose of his own behind, — 
perchance to play the spy in his father’s service ! ” 
*‘Thou art hard on Dean,” protested Francis. 

Indeed, I misdoubt me whether, out of friendliness 
to me he hath not somewhat played the traitor to 
his own father. Faith, too, was sharp on him, but 
now, because that he would have his unmannerly 
fling at thee! — why, what aileth Faith repeated 
the lad, in astonishment, as his sister gave him so 
peremptory a glance as to cause him to lose, momen- 
tarily, the thread of his discourse. Something 
hath come over Faith, too, like every one else, I 
verily believe,” he added, as his sister left the 
room without vouchsafing him a word of explana- 
tion. “Did I not know by her eyes and nose and 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 235 

hair, — and mayhap something else that will ever 
be Faith’s, though it be an hundred years hence, — 
I’d not know her for the same maid who went row- 
ing and fishing and climbing the hills with us ! ” 

“What more did Dean say ? ” questioned Thomas. 

“ If my mother do not retract, so said Dean,” hesi- 
tated Francis, “then Master Winthrop, holding her 
for one having familiarity with the devil, will hang 
her as a witch on Boston Common,” he added, des- 
perately. 

“ Thy mother a witch ! ” cried Thomas, vehemently. 
“Who could believe so wild a tale — not Master 
Winthrop, surely. Did not Dean ever love to draw 
the long bow.? I tell thee what, Francis, an Master 
Winthrop, were he ten times governor, dare lift a 
finger against thy mother, he hath me to reckon 
with ! ” 

“ Thou wilt ever be our friend, that I know right 
well,” answered Francis, sadly. “ But seest thou not, 
Thomas, ’tis not Dean thou hast now to reckon with .? 
I know — and in truth I think he hath also learnt, and 
is in no haste to test conclusions again — that thine 
arm strikes true and strong. ’Tis his father thou 
wilt have to deal with, an he is governor again, and 
Master Wilson, who hath never rightly liked my 
mother, I know not why, unless, indeed, it be that 


236 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

folks have said that she, though a woman, is the 
better preacher. Master Cotton comes not here 
so frequently as was his wont.” 

Master Winthrop may find his lordship the 
Earl of Lincoln hath still a voice at court, and that 
even the high and mighty governor of the Bay 
Colony hath a master!” said Thomas, hotly. ** Be- 
sides, he is not governor — nor like to be. Master 
Vane will surely be reelected I ” 

But despite the bravado of his tone, a sudden 
blinding flood of tears came to the boy’s eyes at 
the thought of the fate that might overtake Mis- 
tress Hutchinson. He turned to the window, hum- 
ming a favourite tune of old Hickory’s, that perhaps 
was sung by the returning mariners of Drake or 
Frobisher : 

“ ‘ Oh, Greenland it is a dismal place, 

As ever I did know. 

There is never a tree nor a rock to be seen, 

But mountains of ice and snow.’ 

faith, I should not want to be where ’tis colder 
than Boston in February,” he said, lightly, shrugging 
his shoulders. ** Is thy spring frozen ? ” he added, 
as Faith, with the water-bucket, crossed the foreyard 
of the house. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


237 


“Ay, we must e’en fetch water from Master 
Winthrop’s spring, none other being within dis- 
tance,” answered Francis. His friend was at the 
door ere the sentence was finished, and hastening 
in Faith’s footsteps. 

“ Let me help thee,” said Thomas, as he overtook 
the girl. But Faith merely shook her head and kept 
on her way without further heed to her companion. 
Nor would she relinquish her burden at the spring. 

“Let me carry the bucket up the hill for thee,” 
pleaded Thomas. 

“ Nay, ’tis not heavy ; I can carry it well enough 
myself,” answered Faith, indifferently. 

She gave no sign of dissent, however, when 
Thomas laid hold of the handle of the bucket with 
her. Their hands touched. Some sudden flash of 
feeling seemed to vibrate through the boy, unlike 
anything he had ever known before, so intense as to 
be almost pain, so delicious that he would have en- 
dured the pain for ever. He was almost vexed at 
the calmness with which, at the selfsame moment, 
his companion turned away her head. He looked at 
her more intently than he had ever done before in 
all their familiar intercourse. The frosty air had 
touched the girl’s cheek to a ruddier bloom, and 
the soft yet firm contour of the chin and throat 


238 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

was more clearly outlined as her head was thrown 
somewhat back in a characteristic attitude touching 
on defiance. A nipping little sea breeze, sweeping 
from the foot of the garden, had blown from their 
confinement a few stray locks of hair that curled 
about her temples, and low in the neck behind. 
There was an undefined wonder in Thomas’s mind 
that he had never before noticed how very fair was 
the little maid with whom he had played and over 
whom he had tyrannised, boy fashion. And with the 
recognition came an undefined resentment that an- 
other should have made apparently the same discov- 
ery — notably Dean Winthrop. Out of the chaotic 
blending of these thoughts came unconsidered, blun- 
dering speech. 

“Faith, Faith ! ” he cried, “I am sorry that I left 
thee alone in Salem woods. I forgot all about thee.” 

The frost of the air was in the girl’s tone as she 
answered : 

“ I have nought to forgive because of that. Truly, 
thou hast changed mightily since, the days, not so 
long ago, when thou wouldst have it that did I go 
fishing with thee and Francis, I must take my turn at 
the oar, because, forsooth, I was a girl.” 

“ But thou art older now ! ” stammered Thomas. 

“ And so the less able to fend for myself ? ” queried 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 239 

Faith, with something of the old sauciness in her 
speech. 

In the instant’s pause that accompanied the words, 
her companion brought up against her with such un- 
guarded force that the bucket was overturned; its 
contents descended in an icy shower over Faith’s 
feet. 

** Let me help thee. Mistress Faith,” cried another 
voice, and Dean Winthrop appeared on the scene. 
With exclamations of regret he knelt at the girl’s 
side, and would have aided her to wring out the 
dripping skirt, but Faith drew its folds from him- 
and sped up the path, leaving the two boys glowering 
at each other beside the overturned bucket. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


Sir — Thomas ! ” 

Dean’s cap nearly swept the ground in mocking 
obeisance. “A right worshipful knight,” he went 
on; *‘thou shouldst have a saw-horse for thy steed 
and a puppet for thy lady. A most valiant knight, 
to leave thy lady in the woods that thou mightst keep 
thine own skin whole.” 

Further jeers were cut short by the recreant 
knight clapping the bucket on Dean’s head, crying, 
That as a meed for thy military services. That ” 
— a vigorous kick — ‘‘to salute thee, freeman.” 

At the sounds of altercation Faith turned midway 
of the road. Her cap pushed from her forehead, her 
eyes glowing with excitement, she swiftly retraced 
her steps. 

“ Art hurt ? ” she cried to Thomas, in tones full of 
solicitude. But when, with a triumphant laugh at 
Dean, who had just succeeded in extricating his head 
from the bucket, Thomas held out his hand to Faith 


240 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 24 1 

that they should race up the hill together in the old 
childish fashion, another swift change came over the 
girl’s mood. Snatching her hand away, she drew her 
cape closely about her and said with the new haugh- 
tiness that was at once so angering and so bewitch- 
ing ; I need not thy help. Thou art welcome to 
bestow that wheresoever thou wilt — upon Lady 
Emilia or — another,” and hastened her footsteps 
homeward. 

Pausing only to throw a snowball at Dean, by 
way of paning amenity, Thomas took the road up 
Beacon Hill. Instead of turning in, however, at the 
governor’s house, he kept on the upward way. 

The sentry was now removed from Beacon Hill, 
and its charm of solitude restored. A patch or two 
of snow remained in the hollows of the uplands, but 
the sun lay warm upon the slopes and summit, and 
in the air was the smell of warm moist earth that 
held the promise of the springtime. But the antici- 
pation did not bring to Thomas the usual thought 
of the freedom of the woods and river and sea. It 
meant merely the approach of the general election, 
in the result of which lay the fate of the dear people 
who had befriended him. Flinging himself at full 
length upon the ground and resting his chin in the 
hollowed palms of his hands, — the attitude in which 


242 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

SO many hours had passed in boyish dreams, — he 
tried to think calmly. 

In Thomas’s prolonged absence from Boston there 
had been a change in the mode of living of the young 
governor; he was now established in a house of his 
own, furnished in a manner regarded only as an essen- 
tial degree of comfort by the heir of one of the most 
magnificent estates in England, but which represented 
to many of the people of Boston a reprehensible 
degree of luxury. Costly furniture had been brought 
from England ; rich tapestries covered the walls ; the 
windows were paned with glass, instead of the oiled 
paper through which the light straggled in most of 
the houses; the board was set with massive silver. 
Even his well-wishers were led to fear by this display 
of the vanities of the world that the heart of the Boy 
Governor, despite its brief yearning for higher things, 
still clung to the flesh-pots of Egypt. 

Other and graver causes there were for the grum- 
bling mislike and distrust with which Thomas, to his 
own vast astonishment and towering indignation, had 
found that his idol was regarded. But the roots 
of these latter reasons lay deep, and came only 
slowly to the cognisance of the boy. The heroic 
effort of the young governor to save the town, the 
self -upbraiding that had laid its hold upon the people 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 243 

in the days when Master Vane’s life hung in the 
balance, the hosannas and palms that greeted his 
triumphant return, — all these causes combined, at 
the outset of his renewal of service, to hide from 
Thomas the ugly and treacherous feelings which, 
while in reality of comparatively gradual growth, 
seemed to his startled perception to have sprung up 
like a crop of poisonous fungi. 

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, and starting up, 
to his surprise, Thomas confronted the governor. 
Perhaps he, too, had sought the solitude for thought, 
for the question he put to the boy was after a length- 
ened pause, as though his mind had. been engrossed 
with other matters. 

*‘What was the cause of thy quarrel with Dean 
Winthrop just now } I saw the affair from the house 
of the deputy governor.” 

Thomas related, haltingly, the provocation he had 
received. 

“An unseemly brawl upon the highway ill be- 
seems the servant of the governor,” said Master 
Vane, in a tone of quiet displeasure that hurt more 
than the sternest censure. “Is this thy vows, the 
worth of thy protestations when I took thee again 
to my service he added, not speaking sharply, 
hardly with censure. Rather the words were ut- 


244 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


tered as with a weight of disappointment, a keen- 
ness of personal loss and sorrow, almost as one 
might speak of a friend lost for ever through some- 
thing worse than death. 

Thomas thought on the forgiveness of all the past, 
so generously accorded, when he had been made to 
feel again, as in that never-to-be-forgotten hour of 
mutual confidences, that his master trusted him, 
loved him, believed in him, — nay, knew him to be 
better than he knew himself, — and finding no word 
of exculpation, hung his head like a chidden school- 
boy. 

When, at last, he raised his eyes. Master Vane was 
leaning against the beacon staff, one hand resting 
lightly on the hilt of his sword. He seemed to have 
forgotten the boy’s presence and was gazing at the 
hamlet below as though lost in some train of thought 
far from that which had impelled his last utterance. 
His eyes, usually wide open and piercing, were veiled 
as by a mist that, shutting out the present, seemed 
to have turned the vision of the Boy Governor upon 
something remote of time and space. At last, 
turning from his rapt contemplation, he asked, 
breathlessly : 

‘‘Didst see — or was it the fantasy of some ob- 
scure passing disorder — a great city below us, of 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 245 

lofty buildings and bustling marts ? The tumultuous 
roar of traffic, of many men hasting hither and yon, 
in pursuit of myriad callings, came to my ears. 
Was it some vision of a New Atlantis that shall arise 
as out of the depths of the sea when you and I have 
long been gone ” 

And as the boy, with wide-open, startled eyes, 
thought for an instant on the like seeming, that 
had appeared to him, — of a great and beautiful city 
crowned with a golden dome, — the governor passed 
his hand over his eyes, and when he spake again, it 
was in his usual tones, albeit somewhat more gravely 
and slowly than was his wont, while in the splendid, 
compelling eyes was an intensity of feeling, a depth 
of some unfathomed purpose, that held the boy as 
with a spell. 

‘‘Thou hast read, perchance, in the knightly 
tales for which thou hast such love, how, in those by- 
gone days, a youth was sometimes trained — it might 
be unknown to himself — to be the champion of some 
great cause. I had need of such an one — it matters 
not now to what end. That fancy hath vanished, 
also,” he murmured, “like the dream of a New At- 
lantis. Yet — I would it had been so ! ” 

Without another word or glance at his young serv- 
itor, he left the heights, and Thomas, his last vestige 


246 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

of self-control at an end, flung himself on the ground 
and cried bitterly. 

In an old chap-book, over which he had pored at 
the Castle, was a set of pictures representing the 
career of Joan of Arc. The art was crude, but the 
artist had an idea of dramatic values, for in each 
throng of admiring, reverential faces was one ques- 
tioning or malicious one. In the days that followed, 
it seemed to Thomas, whenever he attended the 
governor abroad, that in the gathering still brought 
together by the cry, <<Way for his Worship, the 
governor ! ” there was ever some face, on the edge 
of the crowd, that gave evidence of an ugly under- 
current beneath the noisy adulation. 

For a brief space, indeed, following the occasion of 
the Treaty- Alliance, there was a lull in the talk that 
had been absorbing all the interest of the town — 
but not for long. Boston was no longer under mili- 
tary rule; men had resumed their ordinary occupa- 
tions. With thoughts refreshed by two months of 
carnal warfare, the theological dispute was renewed 
— but with a difference. It was no longer Mistress 
Hutchinson’s teachings that was the subject of dis- 
pute. It was Mistress Anne Hutchinson herself. 

Thomas had been absent from Boston during the 
thick of the theological fight, and partly from this 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 247 

fact, aided, no doubt, by his natural good sense, his 
mind was not obscured by the smoke of the conflict ; 
in rare moments of humility, he sometimes thought 
that it might be from lack of understanding that he 
could make nothing of the war of words in which 
Boston was engaged. At other times, the whole 
dispute recalled certain lines of the Earl of Lincoln’s 
favourite poet : 

“ A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signify- 
ing nothing.” 

The tide of popular favour, once turned, ran out 
rapidly. The meetings to which the greater part of 
Boston had once flocked, ceased. One after another 
of the adherents of Mistress Hutchinson, amongst 
the quality, withdrew from her support ; many others, 
though doubtless still her friends and well-wishers at 
heart, made timorous by the accusations that were 
arising on every side, the probability of her being 
dealt with by the Church, the hints of a darker retri- 
bution at the hands of the law did she persist in her 
errors, made haste to deny all participation in her 
views or kindly feeling for her personally. It seemed, 
almost, as though Mistress Hutchinson were led, at 
this time, by some fatuity, to play deliberately into 
the hands of her enemies; regardless of gathering 


248 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

clouds, she put no bridle on her tongue, but presented 
everywhere a bold front till even the more moderate- 
minded amongst her unfriends looked upon her as one 
who had lost her understanding, by reason, as Master 
Winthrop said, of having given herself wholly up to 
reading and writing, matters unfit for a woman, whose 
understanding was by nature of a weaker sort than a 
man’s. Those versed in gathering Providences 
found numerous instances, besides the notable one 
of the Pequot war, of how an overruling power re- 
garded Mistress Hutchinson and her adherents. A 
poor barber, called on to perform a dentist’s office, 
and bewildered in a storm of snow between Boston 
and Roxbury, was found frozen to death. It was 
remembered that he was a disciple of Mistress 
Hutchinson, and this and numerous other examples 
of God’s method of dealing with the erring, greatly 
increased the number of those who, from being Mis- 
tress Hutchinson’s most ardent admirers, were now 
loudest in their denunciations. Even Master Cotton 
went over to the side of her enemies. 

Master Wilson’s denunciations became louder and 
fiercer, his warnings to those over whom the ‘‘sor- 
ceress ” had cast her spells grew lurid : Satan would 
not lose the opportunity of making choice of so fit an 
instrument as Mistress Hutchinson so long as any 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


249 


hope remained to attain his mischievous end in dark- 
ening the saving truth of the Lord Jesus and dis- 
turbing the peace of His churches. 

Amongst the common people — and there were 
not lacking many of the better class who shared 
their opinion — she grew into great suspicion as a 
witch. It was whispered that strange noises had 
been heard, strange sights seen about the house at 
the foot of the Tramount. People gave that part 
of the road a wide berth after sundown. So, whether 
in the natural course of events, swelling from divers 
sources, big and little, or guided by some crafty 
hand, the volume of accusations increased and the 
hour drew near when the enemies of Mistress Hutch- 
inson would no longer hesitate to cry out upon her. 

Master Vane was now her only remaining friend 
in high places. Ere long, the murmuring discontent 
against him took specious form. It was whispered, 
it was said aloud, it was shouted from the house- 
tops, that had it not been for Master Vane, Mis- 
tress Hutchinson’s errors, like many other heresies, 
would have prevailed a short time without disturb- 
ance to the state and then silently subsided. In 
the spiritual excitement that drove weak heads to 
distraction, the common people were led by example 
to condemn the Boy Governor in what it was very 


250 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

probable divers of them did not understand. From 
being the blessed' peacemaker of the early days, 
Master Vane was become the great sower of the 
seeds of dissension in God’s vineyard. 

Did he himself realise the change in the temper of 
those about him } It was a question seldom or never 
absent from the mind of Thomas Savage in his daily 
service, whether at home or abroad. The number 
of those threatening faces in the crowd increased. 
Although the boy knew most of the people of Boston, 
by sight at least, he was never able to call by name 
these people of the strange malign features, nor was 
he able, afterward, to identify them. They never 
appeared to him except when in attendance on his 
master. Once, indeed, so overwhelming was this 
perception of something inimical to Master Vane, 
that he gave an involuntary exclamation of warning, 
at which the Boy Governor turned, with a curious, 
searching look at Thomas, as though the boy himself 
held for him a deeper and more vital interest than 
that embodied in any hostile demonstration. For 
the moment, the boy almost fancied that Master 
Vane, too, saw the sinister face, for he seemed to 
hold himself more haughtily erect, his hand involun- 
tarily sought his sword, a look of scorn — the con- 
tempt of the aristocrat for the threatening rabble” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2$ I 

— passed over his face. Then he turned indifferently 
away and the boy was left to wonder if his imagina- 
tion had but played him a trick. He whispered to 
his fellow halberdier : 

** Dost see — look quick — the man in the red cap 
on the edge of the crowd ; dost know him } ” 

Balston answered in manifest surprise. 

‘‘Truly, yes; a right worthy baker who lives not 
far from the town dock,” — and Thomas was left to 
wonder again whether he had not been dreaming. 
He never voiced these or similar vagaries to his 
master; in these latter days, whatever confidence 
Master Vane had once seemed to give his young 
guardsman was not repeated. Swift upon the for- 
giveness accorded his disobedience had come the 
unseemly brawl with Dean Winthrop, as though he 
would never cease to be governed by the hot-headed, 
unreasoning impulses of youth, as if the call to his 
higher nature that the boy now felt had been made, 
had been wilfully disregarded. Had Master Vane 
known his own moment of human longing for human 
sympathy, when all in this little world had either 
turned against him or failed to understand, and he 
had looked to Thomas as to the squire who had 
vowed to lay down his life for him ? Long after- 
ward, Thomas Savage, grown to higher understand- 


252 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

ing, a finer knowledge of things unseen, might have 
answered. 

Meantime, he was as much with the Hutchinson 
household as the duties of his position would permit. 
Francis turned visibly more and more for support to 
the stronger nature, although little was said between 
the two lads of what, in reality, occupied the minds of 
both. 

As for Faith, though no hand could be laid upon 
the hour when she had passed from childhood to 
womanhood, — for she seemed to have had no inter- 
mediate period of maidenhood, — the change was no 
less assured. In the quiet, self-contained woman 
going about her daily tasks with such abnegation 
of self, such uncomplaining suppression of the little 
vanities and longings and gratifications natural to 
her age, — that no tithing-man or sumptuary laws 
could wholly crush, — there was no trace of the little 
maid who had insisted on sharing all the sports of 
her brother and his friend. Held by the strange 
diffidence he could not overcome, Thomas seldom or 
never spoke to Faith directly ; but if water were to 
be fetched from the spring, a new reel needed for 
the spindle, or the lug-pole was charred, he it was 
who silently and unobtrusively performed the ser- 
vice ; sometimes rewarded by a smile from Faith, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 253 

oftener only by a look that somehow sent him away 
sustained and confident. 

Faith rarely left the house now, as though shrink- 
ing from the looks that greeted her askance from 
every side. In her attendance at the meeting-house, 
she passed swiftly and with downcast eyes past the 
lads who, with one excuse or another, tarried at the 
door. For with the change that had come over Faith 
Hutchinson’s spirit was an outward and visible one 
no less marked. She was become very beautiful, of 
a spiritual and delicate type, the more remarkable 
in contrast to the round and ruddy English faces 
about her. No exception could be taken to the 
maid’s modest manner nor to her sober garb ; never- 
theless, it was hinted that Mistress Faith might re- 
ceive the admonitions of the magistrates, on the 
ground that this following of lads “would appear 
to be a grievous misfortune, for the heart of youth 
doth always too greatly incline to the vain pleasures 
of the eye.” 

One day. Dean Winthrop brought to the house a 
large bunch of the sweet-scented flowers that grew in 
profusion on the sunny heights of the Tramount. 

“ How canst thou abide the fellow ” exclaimed 
Thomas, who had exchanged frowns with the depart- 
ing visitor on the threshold. 


254 ^ PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

“ Dean is a good lad, and although he is now free- 
man, and not subject to his father’s will, yet doth he 
brave his father’s displeasure in coming hither. Have 
we so many friends that I should drive away one of 
whom we may at no distant day be sore in need } ” 

It was the first time, in their recent intercourse, 
that she had spoken at such length or referred 
directly to the troublous times upon which they were 
fallen. Despite the brave effort at self-control, her 
voice trembled and her eyes filled with tears. 

“ Nay, thou shalt not stand alone — neither then 
nor now, nor any time ! ” cried Thomas. ** With 
my very life would I defend thee, as thy brother 
and thy brother’s friend. Yet I would thou gavest 
me a better right. Methinks mine arm is as 
stout as Dean’s, mine heart as fearless. Wilt not 
give me that better right. Faith .J*” pleaded the lad. 

‘‘Nay, Lady Emilia — or another — may listen to 
thy soft words — I want them not,” answered the 
girl, with a flash of something like her old spirit, as 
she fastened the mayflowers at her breast and left 
the room without vouchsafing Thomas another word 
or look. 

The general election was to be held that year at 
Newtown, across the river ; early on the morning of 
the day on the result of which was bound up so 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


255 


many issues, Master Vane, with his halberdiers, 
embarked on a shallop at Long Wharf ; with a 
favouring breeze and a flood-tide, the journey by 
water being the easiest and swiftest route to New- 
town. Others took the ferry to Charlestown, walk- 
ing or riding the remainder of the distance ; and still 
others went afoot by way of the Neck, and thence 
through Roxbury and Watertown to the scene of the 
election. Newtown Common was thronged with 
people of every sort and condition. It was evi- 
dent from the first that the majority of those pres- 
ent would vote for Winthrop. Nevertheless, when 
Dean Winthrop, in the new-born pride of exercising 
his privilege as freeman, expressed this opinion with 
some emphasis to Thomas Savage, the latter met the 
assertion with a hot denial. 

‘^Thou mayst as well throw down thy halberd, 
for let me promise thee, his Worship the new gov- 
ernor will not desire thy services,” retorted Dean. 

“ His Worship the governor will e’en be the same 
who left Boston this morning,” answered Thomas, 
doggedly. And as for my taking service with 
another than he, there is not money enough in the 
Colony — nay, nor in all England, to buy it. Look 
you. Dean Winthrop, I serve only my superiors.” 

‘‘Thou wilt sing a different tune after the elec- 


256 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

tion,” sneered Dean ; ^*then will we see which is the 
better fellow.” 

‘‘That is a question we may as well settle without 
delay,” retorted Thomas, giving his halberd to one 
of his fellow guardsmen to hold. 

A stinging blow had been given and returned, 
others were ranging themselves on the sides of the 
two chief combatants, swords were being drawn, 
when a diversion was created by Master Wilson, who, 
notwithstanding the gravity of his calling, the stout- 
ness of his person, and the dignity of his fifty years, 
climbed up a tree, and from that point of vantage 
appealed to the people to proceed to the business of 
the meeting. The election began. 

Master Winthrop was elected governor of the 
Massachusetts Bay Colony. 

Thomas Savage promptly threw down his halberd, 
— an example followed by two of his fellow halber- 
diers, — and without waiting the further results of the 
election, made the best of his way back to Boston. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


** I FEAR that worse may follow,” said Thomas, as 
he finished the heavy recital of the day’s occurrences. 
He had returned from Newtown afoot, by way of 
Watertown and Roxbury, partly because the ferry 
from Charlestown was so crowded as to delay trans- 
portation, and partly because his share in the dis- 
turbances at the scene of the election made the less 
frequented way the more desirable. Some of those 
who had remained on Newtown Common till a later 
hour, having taken a more expeditious route, had 
already arrived in Boston, so that Thomas found 
his friends were in possession of later news than 
those of which he himself was the bearer. It was 
Eunice Fox, now married to her cousin Oliver, who 
brought the information that Master Dudley was 
elected deputy governor ; the other magistrates were 
also of Master Winthrop’s way of thought. The 
conservative party was thus completely in control of 
the affairs of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. 

“ Let us remove with all haste to Providence,” 


257 


258 A PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 

urged Thomas, desperately. ** In the colony of 
Roger Williams your mother may live in peace — 
though of differing opinion from her neighbour. 
There is yet time ere the new governor take action ; 
but he will not tarry long.” 

“What sin hath my mother committed that she 
need flee.^” returned Francis, dully. “What fault 
doth the new governor find in her save that she 
hath ministered unto those who were an hungered 
or athirst, or a stranger, or sick, or in prison } ” 

“ Thou knowest what Dean told thee of his 
father’s mind,” answered Thomas. 

“I^'put together a few little belongings, — my 
mother’s dearest treasures, — without letting her 
know what I was doing ; though I need not have feared 
that she would have noticed, as she acts as one who 
hath ceased to have concern in earthly matters,” 
said Faith, who seemed to have changed places with 
her mother, so completely was she now the care- 
taker, in matters great as well as little. “When 
Goodwife Fox told us that Master Winthrop was 
chosen governor, I tried to persuade my mother to 
leave Boston — at least till happier times. But she 
only answered, <The fear of man is a snare. Why 
should I be afraid } ’ I told her, at last, that she was 
in danger of being proceeded against by the General 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 259 

Court for holding disorderly meetings. Her reply 
was, that did that come to pass she should be deliv- 
ered, and the court ruined with their posterity. I 
could not speak to her of that last and terrible fear,” 
added the poor girl, pressing her hands to her burn- 
ing eyeballs as though she would thereby shut out 
some gruesome sight. “ Sleeping or waking,” she 
murmured, the Great Elm is ever before mine eyes. 
I see the hooting multitude, the hangman — and my 
mother,” she added, her hard won control nearly 
giving way. 

The two boys looked at each other as though each 
would fain read in the other’s face the hope that had 
left his own heart. 

“Can Master Vane do nothing.?” queried Faith, 
at length ; but her very tone showed how desperate 
was the strait that could look for help from the 
defeated governor. 

Thomas shook his head mutely. 

“Thy friends in England.?” asked Faith, pres- 
ently, but not as one with hope. 

“ I seem, indeed, to be the bearer of ill news,” an- 
swered Thomas, desperately, after a prolonged pause. 
“ I had hoped, did worse come to worst, that an 
appeal to the Countess of Lincoln might be of avail. 
She is dead,” said the boy, with a manful effort to 


26 o 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


choke back his own grief. “ Nay, do not speak,” he 
went on, hurriedly, as Faith turned upon him a quick 
look of sympathy. “ Let us think now only of what 
lies before us. Absence hath not dulled the love of 
Theophilus,” he resumed, “and could words of his 
have availed, I know both he and his father would 
have been our friends. There was a time when the 
Earl of Lincoln stood high in favour at Whitehall. 
But Lord Eaton writes that his father hath already 
identified himself with Parliament, and all hope of 
his lordship’s intercession with the king is at an 
end.” 

^So the hour passed in which Mistress Hutchinson 
might have escaped the snare of the fowler. The 
three children, scarce eating or sleeping, awaited the 
return to Boston of Master Vane. Not as they who 
hoped, but rather as they wait who, past hope, would 
hasten the inevitable end. Perhaps, too, because the 
idea of failure was so difficult to associate with 
Harry Vane that, unconsciously to themselves, they 
could receive its confirmation only from his own 
lips. 

Little was said or done in Boston in the time im- 
mediately following the overthrow of Vane and the 
establishment of the new government. All the fol- 
lowing day and the next the people were returning 


A PUHITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


261 


from the scene of the election, the news they brought 
spreading rapidly through the town. The followers 
of Mistress Hutchinson had been proceeded against 
without delay. Already fifty-eight “ opinionists ” were 
disarmed, disfranchised, marked for exile. Men and 
women looked at one another in dismay. A reign of 
terror seemed imminent. Who next would be con- 
demned, without means of defence, to go forth into 
the wilderness ? — a wilderness infested with wild 
beasts and with men more cruel and treacherous 
than any of which the Old Testament told. Old 
friends passed each other with averted faces ; even to 
be seen in momentary conversation with an opinion- 
ist” might bring oneself under a like ban. Those 
of the same household held their breath in fear of 
being denounced by their brethren ; not a few, to 
avert the doom from their own heads, cried out upon 
father or mother, sister or brother. There arose a 
rumour, how or whence none could say, that the 
bloody scenes of the streets of Antwerp were about 
to be reenacted in the Puritan town. Yet few, if 
any, attempted to escape from their impending doom. 
Whither, indeed, could they flee ? The road to 
Roger Williams’s colony — the only harbour of ref- 
uge for those whose mode of thought was not that 
of the churches — lay through many miles of swamp 


262 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


and wilderness, infested with wild beasts. The har- 
bour islands afforded neither shelter nor food. Be- 
sides, who had the courage to take a stand against 
the combined power of Church and state } 

Thomas, hourly expectant of his master’s return, 
slept on a bench in the anteroom of the hall. It 
was not till early darkness of the third day, however, 
that Master Vane made his appearance. The day 
had been one of the excessive heat not infrequent in 
Boston in early May, but the voyage from Newtown 
was chill with the sea breeze, and Vane bore a heavy 
cloak upon his arm, which he flung to his young ser- 
vitor without appearing to see him. Then, sinking 
upon the nearest stool, he buried his face in his 
hands, and Thomas retreated noiselessly to his cor- 
ner. How long the two, man and boy, sat thus, 
could scarce have been told ; curfew had long ago 
rung, and no sound came from without. Perhaps 
some unguarded movement of the boy penetrated 
at last to the consciousness of the man, for Master 
Vane called out : 

“Who is there Ah, is’t thou, Thomas.?” he 
added, in a voice from which the ringing, masterful 
tones were gone. The changed accents seemed to 
hold a woe infinitely beyond that of defeated pride, 
mortified ambition. Thomas, unable to find speech, 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 263 

sank on one knee by his master’s side, and pressed 
Vane’s hand to his lips. 

“I thought that thou, too, hadst deserted me,” 
said Vane. 

‘‘I could not serve another master,” answered the 
boy, glad that the darkness concealed the unmanly 
tears ; but the quiver in his voice could not be hid, 
and for an instant Harry Vane’s hand rested on the 
head of his young servitor in a caressi^i^’ touch that 
held a grateful comprehension of all that remained 
unsaid, and which vibrated through his next words, 
though all he uttered was : 

‘‘Thou art of a temper, I fear, that will ever breed 
trouble for itself in the world. Of the two halber- 
diers who followed thine unruly example,” he added, 
gravely, “both have been fined, and Balston, because 
that he took issue with the magistrates on the justice 
of the sentence, hath likewise been banished.” 

“ I care not what they do to me,” answered 
Thomas, and if his tones were sullen, perhaps Master 
Vane understood their deeper significance, for there 
was an added tenderness in his voice as he re- 
turned : 

“The new governor hath pardoned thy revolt be- 
cause of thy youth, and also, it being of importance 
that the new administration should show an unbroken 


264 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

front at the present juncture, he will not cross 
swords with the deputy governor, Master Dudley.’^ 

“I hastened home that I might warn Mistress 
Hutchinson of her impending danger,” said Thomas. 

Master Vane started up. 

“ Quick, my sword ! ” he cried. Of what am I 
thinking that I should dally here ! ” 

“Nay, sir, ’tis useless,” returned Thomas, sadly, 
and repeated Mistress Hutchinson's words. 

“But she does not — she cannot understand the 
pressing need that she escape while there is yet 
time. Master Winthrop hath openly expressed his 
immediate intention to make of her and all belonging 
to her an unheard-of heavy example.” 

“ She awaits her fate glorying in the trials, — per- 
chance the martyrdom that is before her, — saying that 
next to Christ, they were the greatest happiness that 
ever befell her,” answered the boy, sadly. 

For some minutes Vane remained deep in thought ; 
then apparently acquiescing in the futility of further 
urgencies with Mistress Hutchinson, he turned from 
the door. 

“God! will such things ever be.^” he cried. “Is 
this the land where I hoped to find a ‘Christian 
people, full of piety and humility ! ’ ” 

“Thinkst thou it would avail aught that thou 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 265 

shouldst go to Master Dudley?” suggested Thomas, 
desperately. “He holds thee in high esteem — if I 
may be so bold, with affection,” he added, his thoughts 
reverting to the old soldier’s words at the inn. 

“Ay, he risked his life for me,” assented Vane. 
“ A true soldier, one of the old Viking breed — the 
race that held it was indispensable to be brave. In 
fair and open warfare, a noble foe — not one whose 
battle-cry is of the attorney’s craft, * Avoid or pro- 
tract,’ ” added the young nobleman, something of 
the pride of birth, rarely indeed expressed by him, 
in voice and look. 

“ I would add my voice to yours, I would go down 
on my knees to him, I would be his bond slave for 
the rest of my life, I would beseech him by all the 
love and duty he bore my kinswoman. Lady Bridget, 
to save her who hath been a mother to me in this 
strange land ! ” cried Thomas, in a choking voice. 

“ ’Tis useless,” answered Vane, sadly. “ I have 
already besought Dudley, — and I pleaded as I would 
not have done for mine own life. His reply was that 
it behoved men of God, both in Church and state, 
to beware how they hatched a toleration, lest that 
ill-bird bring forth a cockatrice, to poison all with 
heresy and vice.” 

“ There is nothing to be done ? ” asked Thomas, 


266 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


after a pause that was long in the reckoning that is 
not of minutes. 

“Nothing — save to pray without ceasing,” an- 
swered Vane, solemnly. As he was about to leave 
the room, he turned once more, and with an intent, 
solemn look, that vaguely recalled to the boy the 
hour of their first meeting, he spake again : 

“Thomas, thou saidst once that thou wouldst die 
for me — nay, I meant not to reproach thee,” he 
added, as the lad hung his head in scarlet confusion. 
“I would ask — couldst thou do a harder thing — 
couldst thou live for me ? ” 

“ Living or dying, I will be thy faithful squire, 
unto life’s end,” rang out, without a tremor, the 
clear, boyish voice. 

Master Vane spake no further word, and Thomas 
was left alone in the anteroom. 

Knowing well that his master had neither eaten 
nor slept for the past three days, Thomas was loath, 
the next morning, to arouse him ; but Master Vane 
was astir at break of day. The constables were 
before him. Mistress Hutchinson had been con- 
vented for “ traducing the ministers,” and was com- 
mitted to the charge of one of the elders, in Roxbury, 
there to await such sentence as the Church should 
pass upon her. 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 267 

The time that followed was like unto that which 
intervenes between the death and burial of a beloved 
one, infinitely prolonged. Forbidden intercourse with 
her family, the days of Mistress Hutchinson’s im- 
prisonment dragged on. As it was written, ‘‘the 
ministers resorted to her many times, labouring to con- 
vince her, but in vain ; yet they resorted to her still, 
to the end that they might either reclaim her from 
her errors or that they might bear witness against 
her if occasion rose.” For, as was well said by his 
Worship the governor, “ It is wicked for falsehood 
to persecute truth, but it is the sacred duty of truth 
to persecute falsehood.” And there was none to 
heed the ringing words of Harry Vane : 

“ Truth is wide — it is wider than our conception of 
it. What seems to us error in others may be a part of 
the same truth of which we hold only our portion.” 

But to call to account for such mad utterances the 
son of Sir Henry Vane, privy councilor of his 
Majesty the king, was another matter from hounding 
a feeble and friendless woman. So, in delicate 
health, badgered, browbeaten, forbidden intercourse 
with her family, deserted by her friends, save Harry 
Vane and Thomas Savage, small wonder was it that 
Mistress Hutchinson wavered, contradicted herself, 
retracted, relapsed. 


268 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Meantime, letters had been despatched to England, 
but their answers tarried. Midsummer was come 
when the long expected ship arrived. Thomas 
Savage hastened to the house at the foot of the 
Tramount. Faith raised her eyes in mute question- 
ing; there was no need of words in answer. She 
turned away her head, and twice, thrice Thomas 
tried to speak ere he found utterance : 

‘‘Sir Henry Vane writes that it is impossible to 
bring the matter before his Majesty,” he said. 
“ Times are too troublous and — ’tis easy to see that 
Sir Henry would not risk his own influence or popu- 
larity in a cause so ill favoured as the Puritan. Sir 
Henry is not as our own Master Harry,” added the 
boy, passionately. 

“When will they let me see her.^^” asked Faith, 
at last, with a calmness that betrayed how rigidly 
she had schooled herself for this moment. 

“Not — yet,” answered Thomas, but the truth he 
was loath to speak was in his eyes, and the girl read 
it therein. “When is she to be brought to trial.?” 
she questioned. 

“ They are drawing up the bill of indictment now ; 
as soon as it is completed,” answered Thomas, merci- 
fully making no attempt to “ break ” the news. 

“ They say that she hath been very ill — so ill 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 269 

that for a time ’twas thought she would die ; and yet 
they would not let me see her ! I know well how 
wicked I am,” went on the girl, in the torrent of 
words that not infrequently follows repressed speech, 
“ but I have prayed that God would be so merciful 
as to let us all die together, ere the dreadful sentence 
be passed upon my mother. To be excommunicated ! 
— hast thought what it means To have no hope 
for this world or the next, to know that one’s 
mother will suffer for ever the torments of the 
damned ! When I think of the terrible words the 
minister will say, even the Great Elm hath no 
terrors ! After — they will not suffer her to be 
buried in consecrated ground ! ” 

I know all that is what the ministers teach, but 
that will I never believe ! ” cried the boy, earnestly. 
“Nor doth Master Vane believe it, either. Some 
day, perchance, I may tell thee what his Worship 
hath taught me, in these latter days, of better things. 
Thy father and Francis have not yet returned from 
their search for a new home — in case the sentence 
be merely banishment ” he questioned. 

The girl shook her head in silence. 

“ Is there naught I can do for thee. Faith ” asked 
Thomas, wistfully. 

“I thank thee, nothing,” answered Faith. “Thou 


2/0 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

hast been very good,” she added, trying to smile, as 
the boy stood in the doorway, loath to depart. 

“ I have something else to tell thee,” he burst out, 
with a sudden boyishness of mien and tone that was 
in marked contrast to the restraint in which he had 
hitherto spoken, though I know right well how 
weak and poor a thing it is of me to add the weight 
of mine own trouble unto thine. Faith, Master Vane 
is — going — home ! ” 

For an instant, it seemed as though the hard-won 
control of the girl would give way. Every vestige 
of colour left her face ; she stood as though turned to 
stone, save that her hands were outstretched and 
groping like a blind person’s. 

“ No, no, it cannot be — do not say it ! ” she 
gasped. 

‘‘I would I need not,” answered the boy. We 
have hoped against hope,” he went on, ^‘for the 
result of Sir Henry Vane’s intercession with the 
king. Did that chance fail, Master Vane’s plans 
were laid to return to England on the next ship that 
sailed and himself implore his gracious Majesty to 
pardon one whose only fault hath been that her way 
of thinking was not that of the ministers. The Bless- 
ing of the Bay sails to-morrow at turn o’ the tide, and 
Master Vane takes passage in her.” 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2^1 

Only a syllable of the girl’s attempted speech found 
utterance. 

“ ‘ Return ? ’ ” repeated Thomas, too full, for the 
moment, of his own sorrow, for his ears to be over 
sharp to that which was in another’s words, though 
that other were Faith Hutchinson. ‘‘Nay, he will 
not return to Boston. ’Tis sure that matters are 
fast approaching a crisis at home ; already, say to- 
day’s letters, are the two parties, king’s and Par- 
liament’s, so well defined as to have been given 
the names of Cavaliers and Roundheads. Master 
Vane will inevitably be drawn into the coming 
struggle.” 

Lord, help me to bear this, also ! ” murmured 
the girl. Presently, making a brave effort to smile, 
she said, ^‘Francis will grieve that he is not here 
to bid thee farewell.” 

Wherefore farewell ? ” repeated Thomas. “ Thou 
didst not think that I was going home with Master 
Vane ? ” he cried, with sudden comprehension. 

^‘Art not.?” cried Faith, turning upon him a face 
so full of a great light that its meaning, flashing full 
upon the boy, caused him, the next moment, to 
draw back, half dazzled by the revelation, doubting 
his own senses, though they stunned him with their 
reiteration of the truth. 


2/2 A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

''Faith, Faith,” he cried, "wouldst care — is it 
aught to thee whether I go or stay ? ” 

"It is — everything,” answered the girl, tremu- 
lously, all the barriers set up by pride, by maidenly 
reserve, broken down by the assertion of her own 
nature. 

Thomas’s arm was about her, her face was buried 
on his shoulder as he spake again, this time not in 
impetuous boyish accents, but in the tone and with 
the look of one who has put away childish things. 
"Listen, dear heart,” he said, "and let me look in 
thine eyes that I may read the truth therein, even as 
I speak, for I cannot wait for laggard speech. ’Tis 
not as thy brother I care for thee, nor would I like 
that so thou shouldst think of me, save only as I 
may not hold a nearer, dearer place. I thought ’twas 
Dean who had won thy heart. It hath been a sore 
and heavy thought with me, sweetheart, that I had 
shown myself unworthy of thy dear love. ’Twas a 
most unknightly act to desert thee as I did in the 
Salem woods. An thou couldst not forgive, no blame 
to thee.” 

"Nay, there was naught therein to forgive,” cried 
the girl, with wide-open eyes. "I could care for 
myself, and ’twas not a score of rods from Salem 
town. But the beads,” she murmured, with a new- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 273 

born shyness that gave a sudden little thrill to her 
lover’s heart, <‘thou rememberest the token I gave 
thee ? ''’Twas the best I had, though all too poor 
and slight a thing for such a squire ! Ah, I was so 
glad and proud that thou shouldst wear my favour on 
thy quest — not Lady Emilia’s ! The day I followed 
in thy steps over Saugus road, I stopped at the Fox 
farmhouse for a drink of water ; I did not tell my 
name because I liked it not that folks stared when 
they heard it. I saw my beads on Eunice’s neck, 
and made no doubt but that thou hadst given them 
to her, even as one wonted to castle ways may toss a 
trinket to a village maid, or beg a token with as light 
a thought. On election day Eunice sought me out, 
as she promised thee she would do. 

“ She told me with what sweet and serious speech 
thou gavest her the beads, bidding her remember 
that ’twas from me and not from thee she was to take 
the token — didst think then I could begrudge the 
silly bauble ? Though, indeed, Thomas, I do think 
’twas something over bold that she should have 
taken such a boon of thee. Then I thought my 
waspish speech had sickened thee of me and that 
I was no more thy lady. I thought that thou earnest 
to us still because of thine own good heart and out of 
the love thou bare to Francis and my poor mother.” 


2/4 ^ PURITAN- KNIGHT ERRANT 

**And I thought that thou caredst for Dean Win- 
throp. I have naught to offer thee but my name and 
such patrimony as may be mine as the cadet of a noble 
house,” said Thomas, seriously. Master Winthrop is 
accounted a rich man ; he hath given Dean, being 
freeman, an island in the harbour for his own. Think 
well, dear Faith. Dost thou, indeed, choose me 
before the governor’s son .? ” 

“I choose thee before all the world,” she made 
answer, solemnly. *‘When thou chosest me for thy 
lady — dost remember the day, on Beacon Hill, when 
we were but boy and girl together ? — there was none 
in all the world so glad and proud as I. To be thy 
lady — ah, that was more than had ever fallen to the 
lot of maid before, be she never so highly placed. 
And then and there I vowed that I would strive in 
all things to be worthy of the honour that was mine, 
and forthwith put away childish things.” 

Thou hast been a more loyal, loving lady than I 
have shown myself squire,” said Thomas, pressing to 
his lips the hand that bore the scar of a burn. 

“Thou didst not know, thou couldst not guess,” 
went on the girl, with the shyness that sat so oddly, 
yet so sweetly upon her, “ that when I listened to the 
tales of high emprise thou lovedst, why, I loved them, 
too, because ’twas ever thee I heard and saw speak- 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2/5 

ing the brave, true word, acting the noble, fearless 
part ! How I watched for thee, when thou earnest 
abroad, whilst others — foolish folk ! — stood agape 
at the governor. For in thy shining armour thou 
lookst, in very truth, what thou hast ever been, my 
brave young squire, ready, when the hour should 
come, for thy well earned guerdon of knighthood.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


For the last time, Harry Vane had climbed the 
Tramount, accompanied by his young companion. 
Order now reigned in Boston. If friends and well- 
wishers of Mistress Hutchinson there still were in 
the three-hilled town, they deemed silence the wiser 
part. 

To be seen in communication with Master Vane 
was to fall under the condemnation that had been 
meted out to all her disciples. So, with the excep- 
tion of Thomas Savage, the once idolised Boy Gov- 
ernor was as though under a ban in the town that 
a twelvemonth ago had gone mad ” over him. 

Vane stood with one hand resting on the beacon 
staff, one arm flung about the shoulders of his young 
companion. In silence, the twain looked at the town 
below, now flooded in the yellow light of the setting 
sun. In the isolated companionship of the past weeks, 
they had become very near to each other, and the 
kinship of soul that each, after his own fashion, had 
recognised in the other, even at the hour of their 
276 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 2 // 

meeting, had grown into an exceeding love. It was 
as though the spirit of the man, in somewise setting 
its seal upon the soul of the boy, had moulded the 
latter’s outward features, as well, into his own like- 
ness, for the two looked strangely alike as they stood 
there, for the last time — the last time, the boy’s 
brain kept repeating dizzily. 

“Thou wilt remember.?” said Vane, at length, 
softly. 

“ I will,” rang out the boy’s clear, steady tones, 
as in a sacrament. 

“ Dear lad, I am glad I was not mistaken in thee,” 
Harry Vane went on. “ Were it best, most willingly 
would I have thee at my side in the coming struggle 
in England — if men draw swords, as I think, ere 
long, they will. But not so wilt thou play thy right 
part in the world. There or here, my spirit shall 
be laid upon thy spirit, and thou wilt not falter in the 
quest that is before thee. When the time is ripe, 
thou, too, shalt choose a champion who will pass on 
to another the undying quest, who in turn shall throw 
down the gauntlet to Evil — the monster of which, 
on this very spot, thou dreamedst. Such knighthood 
as I may confer on thee will bring thee no glory, — 
rather it will give thee trouble and sorrow, perchance 
even such persecution as that to which we have been 


2/8 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


witness. Here, where — in the sight of men — I 
have failed, thou, too, mayst fail ; and so, for many a 
day, will those that come after us. But not for al- 
ways ; for His eternal will it is to overcome evil with 
good. So surely as there is a God in heaven, so 
surely shall this light, set by my hand on Boston’s 
three-topped hill, shine, throughout the length and 
breadth of a New Atlantis, the beacon light of 
liberty.” 

Then, solemnly, very tenderly, even as a woman 
might have done, he kissed him, again and once again, 
on forehead and either cheek, saying, in the form of 
the old ringing words, “ In the name of God, of 
truth and liberty, I make thee knight ! ” 

His gracious Majesty, King Charles the First, was 
too deeply concerned with matters of personal moment 
to pay heed to the urgencies of young Master Vane, 
and so vanished the last slight hope to which had 
clung the children of Mistress Hutchinson. 

The time set for her trial arrived — a dreary 
Thursday lecture day in November. The sermon 
and prayer at an end. Mistress Hutchinson appeared, 
as his Worship, Governor Winthrop, noted, “pretend- 
ing bodily infirmity.” She was attended by her son 
Francis, and Thomas Savage, recently married to 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


279 


her daughter Faith. One of the elders read the in- 
dictment against her. She was to answer for eighty- 
two opinions, some blasphemous, others erroneous, 
and all unsafe, besides nine unwholesome expressions. 
In the long-drawn proceedings that followed was no 
trace of wisdom, of conciliation or of charity; noth- 
ing but priestly intolerance, stimulated by blind 
zeal; beneath, the rock bed of personal pride and 
ambition. The judgment meted out to those con- 
victed of having “notoriety with the devil” was 
averted only by the pleading of Thomas Savage with 
the deputy governor. Master Wilson pronounced 
the sentence of excommunication : 

“Therefore in the name of the Lord Jesus and in 
the name of the Church I do not only pronounce you 
worthy to be cast out, but I do cast you out ; and in 
the name of Christ I do deliver you up to Satan, that 
you may learn no more to blaspheme, to seduce, and 
to lie ; and I do account you from this time forth to 
be a heathen and a publican, and so to be held of all 
the brethren and sisters of this congregation and of 
others ; therefore I command you in the name of 
Christ Jesus and of this Church as a leper to with- 
draw yourself out of this congregation.” 

With the exception of Thomas Savage and Faith, 
his wife, who remained in Boston, Mistress Anne 


28 o 


A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 


Hutchinson, with her family, went forth into the 
wilderness. There the Indians set upon them and 
slew her and all her family save one daughter, whom 
they carried into captivity. Thus, it was written, 
^‘the Lord saw fit to make an unheard-of heavy 
example of this woful woman and all belonging to 
her.” 


THE END. 


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ness, and as far north as Brora, missing no part of the match- 
less scenery and no place of historic interest. Returning 
through Perth, Stirling, Edinburgh, Melrose, and Abbotsford, 
the enjoyment of the party and the interest of the reader never 
lag. 


Chums. By Maria Louise Pool. Illustrated by L. 

J. Bridgman. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . . $1.00 

“ Chums ” is a girls’ book, about girls and for girls. It re- 
lates the adventures, in school and during vacation, of two 
friends. It is full of mingled fun and pathos, and carries the 
reader along swiftly to the climax, which is reached all too 
soon. 


4 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


Little Bermuda. By Maria Louise Pool. Illus- 
trated by Louis Meynell. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . . $i.oo 

Young people will follow eagerly the adventures of “ Little 
Bermuda ” from her home in the tropics to a fashionable 
American boarding-school. The resulting conflict between 
the two elements in her nature, the one inherited from her 
New England ancestry, and the other developed by her West 
Indian surroundings, gave Miss Pool unusual opportunity for 
creating an original and fascinating heroine. 

Black Beauty : the autobiography of a horse. 
By Anna Sewell. New Illustrated Edition. With 
twenty-flve full-page drawings by Winifred Austin. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . $1.25 

There have been many editions of this classic, but we con- 
fldently offer this one as the most appropriate and handsome 
yet produced. The illustrations are of special value and 
beauty. Mr. Austin is a lover of horses, and has delighted in 
tracing with his pen the beauty and grace of the noble animal. 

Feats on the Fiord : a tale of Norwegian 
Life. By Harriet Martineau. With about sixty 
original illustrations and a colored frontispiece. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00 

This admirable book deserves to be brought to the attention 
of parents in search of wholesome reading for their children 
to-day. It is something more than a juvenile book, being 
really one of the most instructive books about Norway and 
Norwegian life and manners ever written. 

Timothy Dole. By Juniata Salsbury. With 

twenty-five illustrations. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00 

The youthful hero starts from home, loses his way, meets 
with startling adventures, finds friends, kind and many, grows 
to be a manly man, and is able to devote himself to bettering 
the condition of the poor in the mining region of Pennsylvania. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE J 

Three Children of Galilee: A Life of Christ 

FOR THE Young. By John Gordon. 

Beautifully illustrated with more than one hundred illus- 
trations. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . $i.oo 
There has long been a need for a life of Christ for the 
young, for parents have recognized that their boys and girls 
want something more than a Bible story, a dry statement of 
facts, and that, in order to hold the attention of the youthful 
readers, a book on this subject should have life and movement 
as well as scrupulous accuracy and religious sentiment. 

Three Little Crackers. From Down in Dixie. 
By Will Allen Dromgoole, author of “The Farrier’s 
Dog,” etc., with fifty text and full-page illustrations, by E. 
B. Barry. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . $i.oo 
A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of Ala- 
bama children who move to Florida and grow up in the South. 

Prince Harold, a Fairy Story. By l. f. 

Brown. With 6o full-page illustrations by Vitry. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . . $1.50 

A delightful fairy tale for children, dealing with the life of 
a young Prince, who, aided by the Moon Spirit, discovers, 
after many adventures, a beautiful girl whom he makes his 
Princess. 

The Fairy Folk of Blue Hill : A Story of 

Folk-Lore. By Lily F. Wesselhoeft, author of 
“ Sparrow the Tramp,” etc., with fifty-five illustrations from 
original drawings by Alfred C. Eastman. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . $1.00 

A new volume by Mrs. Wesselhoeft, well known as one of 
our best writers for the young, and who has made a host of 
friends among the young people. 


6 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


Larry Hudson’s Ambition. By James otis, 

author of “ Toby Tyler,” etc. Illustrated by Eliot Keen. 

■ One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . $1.25 

James Otis, who has delighted the juvenile public with so 
many popular stories, has written the story of the rise of the 
bootblack Larry. Larry is not only capable of holding his 
own and coming out with flying colors in the amusing adven- 
tures wherein he befriends the family of good Deacon Doak ; 
he also has the signal ability to know what he wants and to 
understand that hard work is necessary to win. 

The Adventures of a Boy Reporter in 

THE Philippines. By Harry Steele Morrison, au- 
thor of “ A Yankee Boy’s Success.” 

One vol, large 1 2mo, cloth, illustrated . . . $1.25 

A true story of the courage and enterprise of an American 
lad. It is filled with healthy interest, and will tend to stimu- 
late and encourage the proper ambition of the young reader. 

The Young Pearl Divers : a story of Aus- 
tralian Adventure by Land and by Sea. By Lieut. 
H. Phelps Whitmarsh, author of “ The Mysterious 
Voyage of the Daphne^" etc. Illustrated with twelve full- 
page half-tones by H. Burgess. 

One vol, large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00 

This is a splendid story for boys, by an author who writes in 
vigorous and interesting language of scenes and adventures 
with which he is personally acquainted. 

The Voyage of the Avenger : in the days 

OF THE Dashing Drake. By Henry St. John. With 
twenty-five full-page illustrations by Paul Hardy. 

One vol, tall i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . . $1.50 

A book of adventure, the scene of which is laid in that stir- 
ring period of colonial extension when England’s famous naval 
heroes encountered the ships of Spain, both at home and in 
the West Indies. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


1 


THE WOODRANGER TALES 

By G. WALDO BROWNE 

The Woodranger. 

The Young Qunbearer. 

The Hero of the Hills. 

Each I vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover, illus- 
trated, per volume ....... $i.oo 

Three vols., boxed, per set ..... $3.00 

“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder Tales ” of 
J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical information relating 
to early pioneer days in America with interesting adventures 
in the backwoods. Although the same characters are con- 
tinued throughout the series, each book is complete in itself, 
and while based strictly on historical facts, is an interesting 
and exciting tale of adventure which will delight all boys and 
be by no means unwelcome to their elders. 

rt? 

Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones. 

Compiled by Mary Whitney Morrison (Jenny Wallis). 
New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whit- 
ney and eight illustrations. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00 

No better description of this admirable book can be given 
than Mrs. Whitney’s happy introduction ; 

“ One might almost as well offer June roses with the 
assurance of their sweetness, as to present this lovely little 
gathering of verse, which announces itself, like them, by its 
deliciousness. Yet, as Mrs. Morrison’s charming volume has 
long been a delight to me, I am only too happy to link my 
name with its new and enriched form in this slight way, and 
simply declare that it is to me the most bewitching book of 
songs for little people that I have ever known.” 


8 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY 


The Rosamond Tales. By Cuyler Reynolds. 

With 30 full-page illustrations from original photographs, 
and with a frontispiece from a drawing by Maud 
Humphreys. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50 

These are just the bedtime stories that children always ask 
for, but do not always get. Rosamond and Rosalind are the 
hero and heroine of many happy adventures in town and on 
their grandfather’s farm ; and the happy listeners to their story 
will unconsciously absorb a vast amount of interesting knowl- 
edge of birds, animals, and flowers, just the things about which 
the curiosity of children from four to twelve years old is most 
insatiable. The book will be a boon to tired mothers, and a 
delight to wide-awake children. 


Old Father Gander; OR, The Better-Half of 
Mother Goose. Rhymes, Chimes, and Jingles 
scratched from his own goose-quill for American Goslings, 
and illustrated with Impossible Geese. By Walter Scott 
Howard. 

One vol., oblong quarto, cloth decorative . . $2.00 

The illustrations are so striking and fascinating that the 
book will appeal to young people aside from the fact even of 
the charm and humor of the songs and rhymes. There are 
thirty-two full-page plates, of which one-half are in color. 


Divine and Moral Songs for Children. 

By the Rev. Isaac Watts, D. D. Delightfully illustrated 
in color by Mrs. Gaston. 

Small quarto, decorative $1.00 

Did the Rev. Isaac Watts ever dream of finding himself 
tricked out in such quaint array? This is a most enticing 
little volume, where Greenawayish babies gaze with edified 
gravity upon “ How doth the little busy bee,” or are lulled to 
sleep by the sweetest of cradle hymns, or let Greenaway angels 
guard their slumbering heads. It is a unique idea in the way 
of a child’s gift book. 




AUG 23 1902 


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